Return to me
by Lotten
Summary: The war is over and all is well. That is, until Remus’ old lover comes falling out of the Veil that ate him, with no recollection at all of being stone dead, and with a not very happy opinion of Remus being married. Poor, poor Dora…
1. Prologue

Okay, let us explain. This is an AU fic. AU's are generally about posing "What if?"s and then trying to give an answer. The two "What if?"s we have chosen to target here are:

What if everyone who died in book 7… didn't?

AND

What if The Veil would spit Sirius right back out again after a couple of years?

Well, this is our take on it.

Once more, I'm writing with the lady of loveliness, Hanna. Oh, and speaking about nothing whatsoever, she is now my _girl_friend. DUDE, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!

Ahem… Anyway:

* * *

**Prologue**

**True**

* * *

Just be yourself!

The ever-encouraging phrase used to relieve stress and soothe fears.

But what if I'm not good enough?

The inevitable question that follows it.

Now, if you could change your face, your hair, your body to suit everyone's needs and/or wishes, wouldn't you be even the slightest bit tempted? And how can anyone say that you're not being true to yourself, when your very nature is to change? And who are you really? Is there even a face underlying the elaborate and beautiful masks, or are you a blank slate where anyone can leave an imprint, a demand. Is there a you, or just an us creating you over and over again.

Well, Dora?

* * *

A door slammed. There was the very special sound of a cloak hitting the wall and then sliding down to drape itself over a chair. Some rather frustrated – angry? – footsteps, and then the sound of someone collapsing backwards into the sofa.

"Where have you been?"  
Remus looked up, his hair at odd angles; he'd been leaning his head in his hands. "An idiot," he mumbled.

"That's a what, which we can discuss later. Right now I'm more interested in where."

He shied away, as if she had slapped him, as if there had been more venom in her voice than there strictly was. "I… Grimmauldplace."

Nymphadora crossed her arms and gave him a look that was more baffled than angry. "There's that 'what' again… You know, I never took you for stupid."

He shook his head, looking worn and tired. "You have no idea," he muttered, raking his hands through his hair.

Mr. Baffled got kicked out by Sir Rage, who'd been waiting in line behind Messrs Humiliation, Fear, Self-Loathing and Panic. Rage had felt pretty miffed when Baffled just elbowed his way in out of the blue, and someone was going to pay for it. Remus was conveniently present.

"No, I have no idea. You see, I've been kinda busy worrying about your sorry ass, worrying about how the _hell_ am I supposed raise a child, not to mention a potential werewolf, all by my fucking self!" Remus opened his mouth as if to object, but Dora jabbed an angry finger at him so viciously that he sat back, wide-eyed. "No, you shut up! You leave me as soon as you find out we're having a baby, how am I supposed to take that? As a sign of your fucking devotion as a fucking father?"

Remus was staring at her in shock, his face stark white, and even though his lips moved, nothing came out. He wanted to explain, but at the moment he was dumbfounded by the sheer force of her rage. He _knew_ he should've realised that this was how she was going to react, but yet again, he'd been too self-absolved to notice the storm until it was right upon him.

"Now, I appreciate that this might be a stressful situation for you, but that doesn't make it okay to ditch me and run off to wallow in your godforsaken self-pity and melodramatic _angst_! And where is it that you go? To Grimmauldplace! The place where three scared youths, not to mention our last bleeding hope, are hiding from the Dark Lord! That is _not_ the place to go when you aren't completely stable – and for both our sakes I'll assume that it wasn't a rational decision to walk out on me. You could have exposed them, arsewipe!"

"I know." He didn't say it angrily; in that case, the argument would've just snowballed on. He said it with every sign of regret and quiet acceptance, and it totally made her lose all the momentum she'd been gathering. What do you answer to that?

"Well… good."

He actually smiled at her, a smile that looked a million years old. "I… You are completely right. You don't know how right you are, as a matter of fact. I went there to offer myself to go with them. Leaving you here so that I could… well, go off and die. That was the original plan. A very Sirius-like ending, all poetic and self-sacrificing. Ha!" She supposed that the bitter grimace was meant to be another smile.

Now completely pulling the rug out from under Sir Rage's feet, Miss Shock entered the stage. "And what stopped you?" was all she could manage to say.

"Harry." Remus chuckled dryly. "He thought it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, and he didn't hesitate to tell me. At length, actually. It was really quite enlightening."

"I_ like _that kid," Nymphadora said, with feeling.

"So do I. Very much. That's probably what stopped me from killing him." Remus sighed. "Facing yourself isn't really pretty, and there are some things you just don't want to _know._ I've never been so angry in all of my life. Never been so much… wolf." He smiled at her rather impatient face. "I'm sorry, far to elaborate. Basically, I told the kid who lost his parents in a tragic accident that I was going to run out on _my_ kid just because I was getting a touch of cold feet. All in his name. He didn't appreciate that."

Dora's voice was reminiscent of something coming from a crypt, something dry and cold that's had maggots chewing on it for just a bit too long. "I can relate."

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then he stood up and walked over to her, putting his hands _very_ tentatively on her upper arms. "I wish I could say something more than that I'm sorry, something that _means_ more than just… But at least… I _am_ sorry."

She looked into his eyes, without anger now, but still not happy with him by a long shot.

"You mean that?"

"Yes. Very much so."

"Well, then I guess that'll have to do then."

"Is it acceptable for me to kiss you?"

And her treacherous heart… melted. She grabbed him by the collar, pulled him to an acceptable height – and possibly grew an inch or two to speed the process on – and proceeded to snog the living daylight out of her husband.

Surfacing after quite some time under, Remus watched her with a fond smile pulling on his lips. "I take it I'm forgiven for now?"

"For now."

He nodded, and for a long while said nothing. He just watched her face as if not having looked at it for a very long while, tracing contours and investigating the texture of her skin. "You look different," he said after a while. "Why have you changed?"

"I haven't… I'm not…" Her expression changed from confusion to wonder, "… I'm not _doing_ anything!" she yelled and ran over to a mirror hanging on the wall behind her, staring at the completely unfamiliar reflection. She knew it was her face, the face she would have had if she'd been normal. There were no alterations, god alone could give an answer to how she could possibly know that, but she did.

"I haven't been able to remember what I look like for years…" she mumbled, and it was true. She'd been altering herself for so long, there was no way of knowing what she'd have been if she hadn't. She didn't know if it was a pretty face or not; it wasn't very different from the face she'd had, but still it _made_ a difference.

Remus didn't really know what to say. Telling her that it didn't matter to him how she looked seemed somewhat insensitive. So he went over to stand by her side, watching her new old face in the mirror with her. "Still pretty," he murmured, circling his arms around her from behind. Then he smiled rather teasingly and put his hands on her breasts. "Smaller," he commented, not sounding in the least disappointed.

"Bastard! I'm having a deep moment of revelation, and you comment the size of my _tits_? Men!"

"You seemed to take it a bit too seriously. You of all should know that it doesn't _really_ matter. It certainly doesn't to me. If you're happier with, for example, bigger breasts, then I'm fine with it. If you want to have them smaller, fine. I might complain if you remove them altogether, but they're still yours to do whatever it pleases you with them."

It struck her that Remus couldn't possibly understand why this was such a big deal to her, since she'd never told him how complicated being a metamorphmagus had made her life. It also struck her that she should probably tell him. But right now, he'd been gone for a week, she'd just been relieved of a buttload of stress and he was holding her… _with_ his hands on her breasts. This was not a time to dwell on old teenage angst.

* * *

**A/N: **More to come on a shiny day! Sirius returning from the veil! Such an original story, don't you think? Well, don't judge it too early. You might find yourself surprised. And no, for you people who might've caught on by now: There will be **NO** Nymphadora bashing. I think that the poor girl's gotten enough shit from the RL/SB-shippers, or what do you think? And I am saying this AS a RL/SB-shipper. Incidentally, Hanna agrees.

So, if you were hoping for that, leave. But if you want to see Remus wrestling that his old lover is alive and kicking again, and not exactly pleased with this whole married-to-his-cousin-business... Well, stay tuned.


	2. Unveiled

**A/N: **Okay, let's see what happens if you add 1 pinch of Sirius to this...

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Unveiled**

* * *

The thing at the Department of Mysteries that went under the rather imposing name The Veil of Death was nothing more than an elaborate accident. If you poke around space and time with powerful magic, you are bound to find… pathways. This one was assumed to lead into the land of the dead.

But death is not a place, it's a state of being. And if you aren't dead, Death cannot be maintained, for obvious reasons. Not for long, anyway. Sooner or later, the universe will right itself, putting back into place whatever has been relocated.

In this case, it was a soul.

It was rather a nasty shock for the Unspeakables doing their monthly readings by the Veil when suddenly a man came tumbling through the tattered black fabric. He stumbled to his feet, all wild-eyed and white in the face, and then immediately fell over. After a few more pathetic attempts, he seemed finally to notice that he had an audience. He stared at them with much the same expression as they stared back at him, and then he opened his mouth, his voice coming out as a feeble croak:

"What happened?"

Finally, one of the Unspeakables managed to catch on. She hurried over to his side, helping him to his feet. "Black? Sirius Black? Is that correct?"

"Yes… The Death Eaters…"

"Ah, yes…" She looked at her colleagues for support, but they blinked back owlishly, still in shock. Swallowing, she turned back to the pale, shivering man. "It's been seven years since the Dark Lord was vanquished, Mr Black. Nine years since you fell through there." She yanked her head toward the fluttering black curtain. Following her gaze, he stared at it as though seeing it for the first time, and then crumbled to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Kingsley had fetched Remus straight from work, refusing to explain to him what the matter was. The children had clustered in the doorway as he left, listening with round eyes as he explained hurriedly to Mrs Carlow that he had some urgent family business to attend to. Mrs Carlow nodded knowingly, thinking that this had something to do with the chronic disease that sometimes kept Mr Lupin away from work. As he stepped outside, following in the Minister's footsteps, the children pressed themselves to the window and waved vigorously at him. Smiling in spite of the oddness of the situation, Remus waved back.

Kingsley watched him out of the corner of his eye, an inscrutable expression on his face. "Muggle primary school teacher?" he said, his deep voice sounding faintly amused.

"Well, after everything the Wizarding World put me through, I thought it would be nice with a change. And I like children, I always have."

"Teddy doing fine then?"

Remus fished out a photo from his wallet and handed it to Kingsley with the proud little smile that is reserved for parents whenever their child is mentioned. "He's doing great. He already knows half of the lyrics to that… music Dora listens to. I sincerely hope he doesn't know what some of those words mean."

Kingsley chuckled. "That sounds like Tonks, yes. Well, the kid will certainly receive a broad education."

Remus snorted, pocketing his wallet once more. Then they walked in silence for a while, before Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably, hunching his shoulders a bit against the cold wind. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Kingsley sighed. "This is not going to be easy for you, Remus. But he's been asking for you ever since they found him."

"Found who? What are you talking about?" Remus asked, a feeling of foreboding creeping upon him.  
Kingsley stopped, turning to face Remus, and when he spoke it reminded Remus of the careful way you speak to someone that's gravely ill. "Sirius. They found Sirius outside the veil. He's not dead."

* * *

Remus was just about to approach the figure that was posed on the outmost edge of a St Mungo's bed, when a Healer blocked his path. "Before you talk to him, remember that he's deeply in shock. We've barely managed to get him to answer our questions. Try not to say anything that stresses him."

Remus nodded impatiently, sidestepping the Healer without a word, because… because if this was a dream, he wanted to reach the moment where he woke up quickly. Because he wanted to know what he would feel if it wasn't.

The thin frame of the man was shaking, and the small portion of his face that Remus could see was just as pale as he remembered Sirius to be. As he approached, the man lifted his face, revealing a Sirius that hadn't changed a bit since last he saw him, except for the fact that his face seemed frozen in permanent horrification.

"Moony…" he whispered between lips that seemed stiff and barely complying. And Remus could actually _feel_ his mind going blank as he rushed over and threw his arms around the man. First came a feeling of almost painful joy that he was there, that he hadn't lost him, and then a treacherous feeling of relief: _I don't love him anymore. Not like that._

And Sirius clung to him, shaking and sobbing and grasping at him back with hands that were like claws; it hurt like hell but it was so good to know that he was there to hurt him that Remus didn't mind. But then something changed, the embrace wasn't just desperate anymore, it was… craving. And then he felt Sirius moving to kiss him, and it all came crashing down on him.

_For him, no time has passed. NO TIME HAS PASSED. For him, it was just hours since he saw me last time; for him, it was just a few days since we made love the last time. He still loves me. Of course he still does; there is no 'still' for him at all._

He backed away, avoiding the questing lips, avoiding Sirius' gaze and fighting the urge to run away. Of course, he could leave it at this. He could just turn away, let Sirius think that he needed time, let him think-

_No._

"I can't do that, Sirius. I'm sorry, but I can't." He turned back, but immediately regretted it. He'd never seen such raw confusion, such overwhelming hurt in his lover's… his _former_ lover's gaze before.

"I… Remus?"

_How can I tell him? How can I tell him this after what he's already been through? He still loves me…_

"It's been nine years, Sirius. I… You've been dead for nine years. I had to… I couldn't mourn you forever. I'm really sorry, but I…"

And then the anger, as he _always_ would handle _everything_ with becoming angry. "You what? Why can't you tell me why you cannot… why you cannot…" Remus turned his head away. He was crying. He'd never seen Sirius crying since…

_It was so many years ago… I was so angry, wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't listen to his explanations, I said I hated him… I _hated_ him. And then I woke up to find him by my bed, clutching at my sheets and… and crying…_

Then he had caved, then he had taken Sirius back. But now he couldn't.

"I'm married, Sirius. I have a five-year-old son, and another child on the way. I can't…"

Sirius looked as if he had slapped him. For several minutes, he said nothing; he probably couldn't. And then, "Five years old? _Five_? How long did it take you to…" His voice was hollow.

Remus was, very slowly, starting to get angry. "About one year. She told me she loved me just a month after you died, and I told her I couldn't. I didn't say why, and she wouldn't give up. I'm glad she didn't."

"She? _Who_?"

"Nymphadora Tonks. _Don't_ you _dare_ look at me like that, Sirius. You were _dead!_ What was I supposed to do? Live in celibacy for the rest of my life? I was so… I was a _mess_ after you died, and she helped me through it!" And now he was shouting. Breathing deeply, Remus managed to gain control over himself. "I _love_ her."

"Love her?" Sirius echoed, and Remus felt a stab of disappointment at the bitter tone in Sirius' voice.

"Yes, Sirius. I love her."

"As much as…? You love her as much as…?"

Remus sighed. "In the beginning, I didn't. But I learned to. I was selfish and hurt her a lot, but then I learned to. And that was _good_, Sirius. I know you can't understand, not now, but it was. I couldn't remain shackled to your tombstone forever."

If he had looked like he had been slapped before, Sirius now looked like Remus had punched him in the gut. He gasped, trying to blink tears from his eyes even though they just kept on coming. Remus sighed, wishing he could show how sorry he was that he had to say this, that he had to do this to Sirius, but knowing that it would be cruel to allow him to hope.

"I can't help what happened Sirius. I didn't know you'd come back, and even if I had known… I'm not sure I could've waited. I needed a _life_, Sirius. I wasn't going to torture myself when I couldn't have done anything differently. I'm happy now, and I'm just as happy as I could've been with you, had things gone differently." _Probably happier, god forgive me… _"And as it's too late for us now, I'm not going to give this up."

"Why does it have to be?_ Why_, Remus?"

"Because I… I've gotten over you. I'm sorry. I… I love you, Sirius, but I don't want to share a life with you. You mean almost everything to me, but not _that._"

And then there was a long, painful pause, before the truth seemed to finally sink in, and Sirius turned his gaze away. His face twisted in pain, in anger, in the unspeakable emotions brought on by rejection. "Go. I don't want you here. Go."

And even though Remus wanted to hold him, to comfort him and tell him he wanted Sirius to stay with him, he knew he couldn't. This was going to take time, maybe more time than they had, and he could do nothing but wait. Leaving Sirius behind, closing his heart to the sound of him sobbing, he wondered if he was ever going to see his friend again.

* * *

Three days later, Sirius was released from St Mungo's. He was picked up by Harry and Ginny, who brought him back to their apartment. He didn't speak much, nor had he when Harry first met him, and they kept throwing worried looks at him. After two days of silence, two days of him barely eating and lying for hours at end in his bed, staring at the ceiling, Harry had had enough. He arrived one evening on the Lupins' doorstep, demanding to speak to Remus. Bemused, Nymphadora led him to their office and then left them alone, feeling somehow that this was a conversation she was not supposed to listen in on.

Harry stopped in the doorway, studying a room that actually was two rooms. At opposite ends, there were two desks, two chairs, two bookcases and two armchairs. The desk to the left, where Remus sat, was clean and almost bare; in the bookcase the books were neatly arranged, and there were also large files labelled, "ST 01, 2B, A-K," and similar. The _other_ desk was barely visible under the debris covering it. There were papers, post-it notes and odd little knick-knacks. The wall behind the desk was plastered full of photographs, random notes and strings interlinking everything in a large, complicated web. Harry recognized information on several of the cases that they were currently working at.

There was also a strip of black tape dividing the room into two parts.

"Marry a slob, face the consequences."

Harry started, and turned around to find Remus watching him with a tired smile on his lips. The older man pointed at the strip of tape. "Warfare occasionally requires desperate measures."

Harry laughed. "Me and Ginny are probably just as bad, so we just blame each other and wait for the other one to cave and clean up."

Remus sighed. "I'm part of a dying breed, it seems. But what brings you here? Somehow I think it's not just a courtesy visit, or Dora would be hanging over your shoulder to share in the latest gossip."

Harry nodded, his face turning grave. "No, you're right. I'm here about Sirius." The way Remus' face suddenly went rigid confirmed his suspicions. "You know why he is like this, don't you? He's even worse than when he was stuck at Grimmauldplace. I mean, I know this has been a tremendous shock to him, but… he's cleared. He's free to finally have a _life_. But all he does is lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. He didn't even look happy when we told him that Ginny's pregnant." Harry gave Remus a penetrating look. "Kingsley told me that you were the first to speak to him. No offence, but what the hell did you _do_ to him?"

Remus toyed a bit with the paper he'd been correcting, then put it away in a drawer and pointed at the armchair. "You'd better sit down, Harry. This is… going to come as a bit of a shock to you."

Harry listened in complete silence as Remus told the warped love story of his godfather and a fucked-up werewolf. "We were planning on getting married right before your parents got killed and everything… well… and then we picked it up again when Sirius got out of jail. We probably shouldn't have. We were… different. Sometimes I got the feeling that we barely knew each other. But you and I were the last things Sirius had in life," Remus finished tiredly. "I kept thinking that it would get better, and hell, he'd been through so much, I couldn't inflict that on him as well."

Harry, who seemed to have been holding his breath in pure shock, slowly breathed out. "Bloody, bloody hell. And now you're married…"

"Yes. Exactly. This time, I couldn't pretend for his sake. Not unless I wanted to have every bone in my body pulverised." Remus chuckled mirthlessly. "And so I had to… I had to crush what was left of him under the sole of my shoe and leave him while he was bleeding." He gave Harry a pleading look, begging him to understand. "And there was nothing I could've done about it," he whispered.

Harry couldn't be angry, even though he really wanted to. He'd gotten Sirius back, but only a small shred of him appeared to still be functioning, and he wasn't sure that Sirius could ever piece himself back together. Harry guessed he needed help, and who was going to supply that? Remus couldn't, he understood that only too well, and he and Ginny hadn't been able to do a single thing to bring Sirius out of his private little world of despair. It had to be someone that had been there from the beginning, and there was no one left.

Someone tugged at his robe, and he looked down to see a pair of dark eyes watching him very solemnly. "You shan't disturb dad when 'e's working."

Harry smiled, scooping Teddy up and placing him on his knee. "I'm sorry. Very thoughtless of me." As Teddy nodded his consent, apparently trying to scowl sternly at him, Harry _really_ understood. Of course Remus had to do what he did. He had far too much to lose by not telling Sirius off. Speaking of which…

"Does Dora know?" he asked, shifting Teddy so that he could see Remus' face.

"Well, no. Do you think I-?"

"Yes. Definitely. She'll need to know."

"Tell mommy what?" Teddy demanded to know.

"That your godfather is staying for dinner," Harry said promptly, grinning at the boy. Teddy grinned back.

"I'll tell her!" he exclaimed and wriggled out of Harry's lap, leaving the room at a run. "Mommy!"

Remus chuckled. "Nice one. You'll make a great father. It's all about not telling the truth in a truthful way, as far as I'm concerned." He stood up. "Well, shall we save the dinner from the clutches of my wife?"

"_That_ would be a great idea. I've _seen_ her trying to make potions."

"She cooks with feeling, I have to give her that," Remus murmured as they made their way down the stairs. "Not with skill."

They could hear Nymphadora swearing in the kitchen, and rushed to her aid before she could burn the house to cinders.

* * *

Later that night, when they had put Teddy to bed and watched a movie together, Remus decided that he had to tell her now or never have the courage again.

"Dora? There is something we need to talk about."

Dora lifted her head from the very comfortable spot it had found on Remus' chest and tried to get eye-contact. She failed, since her husband seemed intent on staring at the empty screen of the turned-off TV. "That sounds foreboding. No one ever uses that phrasing to talk about nice things."

Remus chuckled, pulling her closer. "Yes. I've been secretly in love with Harry all this time, and I am leaving you for him."

Dora's stifled her laughter with great difficulty and reverted to biting Remus' arm. "Asshole! So it's got something to do with Harry's visit, then?"

"Yes. Sort of. He came here to talk about Sirius."

"Is he okay? Can I finally see him?"

"No. That would be a spectacularly bad idea. You see, the reason I kept you from visiting him…" Remus swallowed; the words seemed to jam in his throat.

"Yes?"

"You know when I said… You know when I said that we couldn't be together, that you needed someone whole?" Nymphadora nodded. "Well, I wasn't talking about… well, my syndrome."

"You mean that you're a werewolf, right Handsome? You _can_ say it, you know."

"I know. It's just… I'm used to not… Anyway, what I was talking about, what I was _actually_ referring to, was… Sirius. We were… a couple. And then I lost him, and then _you_ told me that you… And I felt like I was betraying him for even considering you, for wanting to _stop hurting_ all the time, and…" Remus couldn't say more, he tried to free himself from her grasp, but she wouldn't let him.

"Please, don't pull away. It's taken me years to make you stop doing that every time you think you've done something wrong. It's not wrong to want to be happy."

Remus relented, letting himself be pulled into an embrace and burrowing his face into her hair.

"So… you guys were a couple?" Nymphadora looked thoughtful, and a little bit scared. "And now he's back."

"Yes." Remus' voice sounded miserable and a bit muffled. "And for him, it was just days ago that we…"

Dora pulled her head away a little to look at him. "And how is it for you?"

"Nine years! I've got you and I've got Teddy and I… _I_ _don't want him back!_ And now he's… I don't know what's happening to him. Harry says he's gone completely apathetic. He barely notices that they're there. What can I do?"

Nymphadora lifted a hand to tenderly stroke his cheek. "I don't know. I mean, he'd probably get better if you went back to him, but it's not like I'm _ever_ going to tell you to do that."

Remus smiled bleakly, but it was a very short-lived smile. "I don't even know if he _would_ get better if I did. He'd be happier, but… I mean, if so much of his life depends on me… I'm not sure that's healthy in the long run. And no matter what, if I returned to him, I would be doing what _he_ wants, not what I want. And ultimately, I don't think he wants me to do that either."

Dora shook her head, still resting her hand on Remus' face. "Not if he truly loves you, no. And I like Sirius _way_ to much not to think that the pair of you truly loved each other." A small amount of steel appeared in her eyes, which turned darker. "That is _not_ to say I wouldn't break every goddamn leg in your body if I found out that you'd been using me as some kind of replacement."

"I thought as much." He kissed her on the nose, and her eyes went lighter once more. "And yes, I did love him. I think I even kept loving him when I thought he was a traitor. I know that it wasn't particularly healthy, and I knew when I got back together with him again…" He closed his eyes. "I knew that if I knew what was best for me, I'd get up and run as fast as I could. But I hoped it would get better, once the war was over. And probably it would've been. But… but he died. And even though I still love him, somehow, I love you more."

There was no way to respond to that in words, love transcends speech by miles and miles, so Dora just leaned in and gently, oh so gently, kissed Remus.

* * *

**A/N: **...don't kill us?


	3. Regarding the fairness of life

**Chapter Two**

**Regarding the fairness of life**

* * *

Sirius Black woke up, and realised that this was enough. Master as he was of sulking, he realised that this couldn't go on. When he tried to envision the future, he had no idea of what he was going to do, but he _knew_ that it wasn't going to involve wasting away in Harry's guestroom, pining for a man who had obviously left him behind.

When he searched his heart, he knew for certain that he hadn't given up on Remus, hadn't let go, but he pushed the thought away. Time for that later.

Right now, it was time for breakfast. He'd been starving himself for several days, and his hunger had by now turned into actual physical pain in the pit of his stomach.

Stumbling out of bed and very pointedly avoiding looking at himself in the mirror hanging beside it – he probably looked as dreadful as he felt – he took aim for the door and managed somehow to get there without falling over. When he'd finally made it to the kitchen, he was exhausted. Whatever he'd been doing to himself these last days – it was hard to remember what – he vowed that he would stop. This wasn't leading anywhere, except possibly his grave.

Leaning on the kitchen counter, he was almost startled out of his skin by a gasp coming from the doorway. Turning around, he faced Ginny, looking just as rattled as he felt.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you almost made me lose the baby," she said, nonetheless grinning rather widely at him. "You look like an inferi. Coffee?"

"Well, since I _am_ dead… And yes, coffee would be nice."

She laughed and shooed him into a chair – "You're going to fall over, you know" – starting to make coffee in a rather haphazard way, making beans, cups and scones fly pell-mell through the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I startled you," Sirius said, dodging a flying saucepan and looking rather embarrassed. "I just… got tired of wearing a hole in your sheets."

"Why are you apologizing, man?" Ginny said, throwing some bacon into the pan and starting to fry them. "Nothing like a little scare to wake you up in the morning. Of course, we'll lose the revenues."

"The revenues of what?"

"Well, we were planning on putting up a little plaque next to your bed and taking fees for coming in to look at the most melodramatic creature ever born, perhaps a slightly bigger amount for having your picture taken next to you. 'Master of Misery' we were going to call you. There. Eat slowly."

Sirius just stared at her with a bacon sandwich halfway to his mouth, and then burst out laughing. "Master of Misery? I don't know, maybe 'Lord of Languishing'?" he managed to squeeze out. Ginny pretended to look thoughtful.

"Hmm… I like it. Sounds suitably ridiculous." And she grinned warmly at him.

"I was going for 'Sirius, the Sire of Sorrow and Suffering Sighs'," Harry suggested, kissing the cheek of his wife and treating Sirius to a wry smile.

"And the Alliteration Award goes to… Harry Potter!" Ginny returned the kiss by very immodestly pinching her husband's backside and handing him a bacon sandwich.

Sirius realised with a start that for five whole minutes, he hadn't been thinking about Remus at _all. _And that was probably a good thing. He actually felt alive, in a way that he barely remembered feeling after he'd been thrown into Azkaban. And he determinately pushed the thought away that _maybe_ this was because he didn't have Remus around all the time, a constant reminder of the life he had lost.

* * *

Sirius didn't know why, but he followed Harry to work that day. He just wanted to have some kind of a purpose, something to fill his hours with, even if it was just licking envelopes for Harry. Of course, there was the horribly awkward moment when he caught Nymphadora's gaze, and then the way he almost felt shameful when they both turned away, pretending not to recognize each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her changing her face completely, disappearing in the bustling activity of the office, and wished he could hate her.

He was productively staring into space, once more dwelling on the fact that the one thing he'd been sure to stay in his life had just been taken away. And he had a wife, and a kid. And was probably happier than he ever was with Sirius…

"Well, have a look at that. It lives."

Sirius almost fell off his chair in shock. No venomous reply presented itself on his tongue, so he was left with merely groaning, burying his face in his hands. "Oh no. Not _you._"

A small, vindictive little chuckle followed his words, and to his great dismay he heard the other man sitting down next to him, probably perching on Harry's desk, he didn't bother to check. "Why are you still alive?" he muttered rather bitterly.

"Well, hark who's talking. Giving people false hopes is bad manners, you know. But you've always had them aplenty, as I recall."

Sirius' answer was muffled by his hands, but since it consisted largely of obscenities, it wasn't a very great loss.

"So, still feeling sorry for yourself, I see."

"Fuck off and die. You don't know anything."

"Correct. I just recognized the expression you've been continuously wearing ever since you got out of Azkaban." Sirius sent him a filthy look, just in time to see the man's eyes going slightly unfocused, and a picture of Remus suddenly formed, unexplained, in Sirius' mind. And then it passed, and Snape was rolling his eyes at him. "Oh, boohoo, so didn't want you back. What did you expect? It wasn't exactly Happily Ever After to begin with, was it?"

"_You…!_" Sirius shot up from his chair, livid with rage, but Snape looked completely unperturbed.

"Yes, I looked into your mind. And yes, I knew about the two of you. You weren't exactly trying to keep it down, were you, yelling the walls down every other week at the Headquarters?" He shrugged. "So you didn't get the love of your life. Story of _my _life. Why do you always act as if you are the only one to suffer, ever?"

For a few moments, Sirius simply choked on his rage, but after a spell of drawn-out silence, during which Snape showed very clearly that he had no intention of leaving, the need to ask grew too great. "What do you mean, story of your life?" This brought on the great pleasure of seeing Snape lose face for a short moment. Then he swore loudly, thumping his hand on the desk.

"I _assumed_ Potter had been the tattle-tale he usually is. I mean, he's been yelling out my tragic fate," – his face twisted in a very strange smile, – "for the world to hear, but _failed_ to tell his own godfather."

"That's what you get for underestimating people," Sirius said rather archly. "And I appreciate that being you must be a terrible tragedy, but what exactly are you on about?"

"I fail to see why I should submit my old discomforts to your perverse attentions."

"Because if I _ask_ Harry, he will tell me?"

"Dying obviously did nothing to improve your personality I see. Anyway, knowing Potter he'll get it wrong – DNA is to blame for a lot there, I think – so I might as well… Lily Evans, since I was ten. Happy now?"

Sirius gaped at him, and then shuddered. "Oh, that's revolting."

"It takes one to know one, I suppose. I take great comfort in knowing I am not alone in having stalkerish tendencies, your suffering will ease mine. I thank you."

"Oh, shut up. But… seriously? _Lily_?"

"No, I was joking. Actually I had a thing for James, didn't you notice? _Yes_, Lily."

Sirius shook his head. "I'd have thought that you couldn't get more pathetic."

"Well _you_ ceased to surprise me a long time ago. Anyway, if you are still clinging to the childish notion that life is supposed to be 'fair', then I almost find myself pitying you. There is no higher justice, no karmic law that says 'good guys win, bad guys lose and the hero always gets the girl, boy or sheep'. Get over yourself, Black." And, pausing only to bestow a creepily cheerful smile on Sirius, he stalked away.

Sirius was left to stare at thin air, wearing a rather affronted look. Eventually, he frowned.

"_Sheep_?"

* * *

Later, Harry re-entered his office, looking a bit tired. After having surveyed his surroundings, his eyebrows shot up so far that they almost met with his hair.

"I see Severus has been to visit you."

"I- What? I mean, how did you know?"  
Harry lifted the sad remains of what once might've been a report from the table. "He _always_ sits down on my desk," he complained, seemingly to the world in general. "He knows what a mess it does of my work. That's why he does it. Spiteful, evil man." Nonetheless, he sounded more exasperated than angry.

"Uh… Well, yes, he was."

"Tell me you did not pick a fight with him, please. We already have three Aurors on sick leave, we don't need any more."

"He _works_ here?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, since he knows how the Death Eaters work, he's great help hunting them down. They have sort of formed a loosely knit organisation, continuing to recruit new members in the name of Voldemort's memory, or something equally daft. And he didn't feel like sticking around Hogwarts any longer than necessary, so I persuaded him to come here. It was sort of a peace offering." Harry looked a bit uncomfortable. "You see… I don't know if I ought to tell you, really, but the reason he was loyal to us was... was…"

"He already did. Tell me, that is. About your mother." Sirius grimaced. "He didn't go to any great detail, and quite frankly, I am rather happy with that."

Harry laughed, looking a bit embarrassed. "To tell the truth, I wasn't very happy with having to tell you. It wasn't my story to tell, if you see what I mean. It's like…" He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Well, I haven't told _him_ about you and…"  
"No need," Sirius said sourly. "He literally picked my brain and found out."

Harry heaved a great sigh. "I _hate_ it when he does that. I haven't been able to make him stop. It's a bit useful when it comes to suspects, I admit, but he does it to _everyone_."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, you only have yourself to blame. By the way, I thought I saw Ron Weasley here. He's an Auror too?"

"Yes, and so's Neville. Although he's planning to quit. Says he wants to be a teacher. But he was always a bit strange."

Sirius nodded, feeling a bit odd. He'd been back for almost two weeks, and yet he hadn't bothered to ask about… well, about anything, really. He'd focused so much energy on Remus that nothing had been left for worrying about all the other people who's lives had been involved with his and the war.

"I've wanted to ask you…" he said, suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't know what happened after I was swallowed by that freakish curtain. I know you told me some things, but I wasn't really listening. Was it… Did many people die?"

Harry's face darkened. "Yes. They were rounding up muggle-borns and weeding out everyone that showed any resistance and… in the end, they attacked Hogwarts. People were killed in that battle. _Students_."

"Anyone… I mean, in the Order…"

"Yes. I didn't know that many, of course, but…" And then he suddenly paled, as if struck by some horrible memory. "Oh no… You don't know…"

"What? What don't I know?" Sirius leaned forward, anxiety twisting his stomach in a knot. Harry pulled a hand over his face, suddenly looking… older. More tired.

"Dumbledore died, Sirius. He… there was this curse… He was going to die anyway, so he ordered Severus to… I mean, he had to. He had to kill him."

For a long while, not a word was said. Then: "Snape... killed him?"

"Yes, because he had to. Dumbledore was already dying, and if Severus didn't kill him he'd blow his cover. Dumbledore ordered him to do it."

"And he just did it? Just because he was ordered?"

"No. Dumbledore was the only one who trusted him. He didn't want to kill him, but he did it anyway. From the way he looked when he... well, I can only imagine how hard it must've been for him. We all thought he was a traitor afterwards and in the end, it was damn close that he took the truth with him to his grave. If I hadn't been there, maybe nobody would know. And if Remus and Nymphadora hadn't been following me, he'd definitely be dead." As Sirius shook his head in confusion, Harry smiled a bit wearily. "It's all a bit confusing. I'll tell you the whole story when we've got a bit more time."

Sirius frowned, looking like he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged. His gaze was somewhat distant, haunted from the moment Harry had told him of Dumbledore's death. "And the other side? What happened to them?"

"Well, as I said, Voldemort is finally dead. And your sweet cousin Bellatrix too."

Sirius smiled, dark blood-thirst in his eyes. "Good. Who do I owe a thanks?"

"Molly Weasley, actually. That crazy woman never knew what hit her."

Sirius burst out laughing. "I bet she thought a woman who'd had seven kids was no threat. Which just proves how stupid she really is. Was. Hah." And then a though hit him, and his eyes narrowed. "And what about Peter?"

"Alive. I saved his life, actually. Again. He hesitated in killing me when he had his chance, and that freakish hand that Voldemort gave him turned on him and tried to kill him. I suppose Voldemort figured that if Pettigrew could betray _you_, what would stop him from betraying him." Harry shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable as Sirius stared at him incredulously. "Anyway, in a situation like that, you don't really have time to figure out whether it was really worth the effort. So I cut off that hand with a spell a certain professor unintentionally taught me," he smiled at a joke Sirius didn't get, "and then we ran away and left him. How he survived I don't know, just that he did. He surrendered soon thereafter, and he's been in Azkaban since then. Of course, he might..." Harry fell silent, looking like he wished he hadn't said anything.

"What?" Sirius snapped.

Harry pulled a hand through his hair, looking tired. "What you have to understand that when the war was finally over, we realised that there were a lot of changes that were needed. And for one thing, we could not risk that what happened to you would ever happen again. Whatever the crime, it cannot be horrible enough to justify the small, small chance that someone might be innocently convicted to the kind of torture that Azkaban means. Unfortunately, once the war ended, the Dementors returned to our side. But there are a lot of us that are trying to... change things. And the rehabilitation program is a step on the way."

"Don't tell me..."

"Nothing's for certain yet. But while they were examining the possibility, they had a psychologist and a Legilimens talk to the Death Eaters in Azkaban, to see which of them seemed most repentant, and..."

Sirius swore, crudely and at length.

"It has to be done, Sirius," Harry said, somewhat exasperated.

"I know that. I _know_. I don't have to like it. Fuck Snape for being right!"

"About what?" Harry wondered, both bemused and a little worried.

"Life is _not_ fair."

* * *

Harry's absence from his office earlier was brought on by a visit at Nymphadora's cubicle. She was sprawled over her desk and repeatedly banging her head against her hands. Her hair was going haywire, changing length and colour rapidly.

"Sorry about that. He insisted on coming."

Dora looked up at him with a slightly unfocused, but very pitiful look on her face.

"Is it very selfish to hate someone for coming back from the dead?"

Harry almost considered being angry, but that would've been incredibly stupid. _Of course_ she didn't mean it. And… well, it wasn't as if she lacked a reason to at least temporarily dislike Sirius. So instead he grinned at her and shook his head.

"It'll get better. Hopefully he'll get over Remus…" And then he realised who he was talking about, and shut up.

"You don't even believe that yourself!" Nymphadora said, and resumed the oh so therapeutic Headbanging.

Harry sighed. "I know he's… very stubborn. But he likes you…"  
"Like_d,_" Nymphadora intoned hollowly. "And he _loves_ Remus. Where I come from, love trumphs like any day. And as for Remus…"

"Remus loves _you_."

Nymphadora got up from her chair and started pacing back and forth over the office floor. "He loves… _us! _You know, our life, our family, the sense of being… normal, I guess. And of course he loves me, I am part of that, I'm even the reason he has all those things, but… But if Sirius hadn't died he wouldn't have looked at me twice, and that's the truth of it. And now Sirius is back and I feel like the only thing standing between me and losing everything is my son, _and he shouldn't be in that kind of position_, and I don't want Remus to stay with me because we have a child together and most of all I just want to know that he wants me because I'm _me_ for fuck's sake!" She took a few deep breaths before summarising her emotions in one, short phrase, her voice spent, broken and weak. "I mean, what am I next to Sirius Black?"

For a moment, staring was all that Harry could accomplish. Then he very, very awkwardly stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "I think you're wrong, Tonks," he said, carefully, as if afraid she was going to explode on him. "And I _know_ you're not giving yourself enough credit. You've done just as much for Remus as Sirius has."

Dora stood very still for a moment, and then flung herself around Harry's neck, sobbing against his shoulder.

Harry froze, deeply shocked by the phenomenon of Nymphadora Lupin being… fragile. Then he slowly lifted his hands and tentatively patted her on the back a couple of times. "Of course he'll stay with you," he mumbled, somewhat embarrassed. "You'll see. He does love you. _I _know that, even if you…" He fell quiet, blushing, as he realised how that had come out.

Nymphadora let out a chocked giggle and pulled away from Harry, wiping her eyes with her hand. Then she produced a battered looking handkerchief from one of her countless pockets and blew her nose. When she took the hanky away, her face was composed in the usual Tonks-doing-her-thing expression.

"Thanks… Well, I'd better get back on that vampire case," she said, turning away from Harry to start rummaging through a pile of papers. "Don't worry about me… I'll be fine."

Harry gave her a doubtful look, but truth to be told, he was relieved to see her return to her normal self. It had been quite horrible to see Nymphadora the Indestructible being suddenly insecure and terrified. "Sure. I'll… just have to go see he hasn't torn my office apart looking for my secret stash of chocolate. Or gotten himself into a fistfight with Severus."

"Yeah, you do that," she answered, turning around to give him a, she hoped, encouraging smile. Then she returned her attention to the papers, randomly shuffling them about until she was sure that Harry was really gone. Then she went to her chair and sat down.

"Oh dear God…"

This time, she didn't even bother to cushion the blows with her hands. She just banged her head on the table.

* * *

There was a mondo huge crash from the hallway and some very loud swearing that was abruptly cut short, probably because Dora suddenly remembered that it wasn't the kind of language she wanted her son to learn. Yet. Anyway, it wasn't the kind of language he needed to hear _her_ use. So instead there were a couple of loud thumps – her heavy doc martens hitting the wall? – and the _kadunk_ of a thrown bag, and then an ominous silence. Remus got up, sighing, and went into the hall, to find his wife glaring grimly at nothing, slumped over a chair.

"Dora? What are you doing?"

"Sirius apparently decided that coming to work with Harry would be a good idea. I do not agree."

Remus frowned. "I'm not even going to ask myself why he would do that, because I probably wouldn't like the answer. Did he cause any trouble?"

Dora shook her head and pulled a hand through her hair, leaving it just a tad longer than it had been, as if she'd turned a bit loose in her contours and was even more shapeable than usual. "No, he didn't go near me. We just exchanged glances and then I made myself invisible and hid in my office for the rest of the day, feeling like crap."

What Remus _wanted_ to do went something along the lines of shouting, 'That insensitive prick!' at the top of his lungs. But that wasn't how he worked. He had to think _logically_ about things. He had to be _reasonable. _If nothing else, then because otherwise, he'd probably end up in Azkaban for throwing Sirius back through that veil, the way he was feeling right now. Which was stupid, because the reason Sirius was behaving like this was that he was feeling hurt and betrayed, and the reason he was feeling hurt and betrayed was… well, Remus.

Nevertheless…

"That insensitive prick," he mumbled, compromising.

"What?" Dora said, sure she must've heard him wrong. Remus would _never_ say such a thing about a friend, even if that person _was_ a prick.

"Nothing," Remus said hurriedly, blushing guiltily. "What was Harry thinking?"

"Oh, I don't blame him," Dora waved a hand dismissively, "I mean, the godfather he _worships_ has come back from the dead, and said godfather is feeling like crap because he's found out that his boyfriend is married. Naturally, Harry will do anything to make Sirius feel better," she paused to smile, "And he did come by my office to apologise and see if I was alright."

Remus had murmured a quiet, 'be nice, Dora' at 'worships', but at the end of the conversation he looked equally pleased that Harry seemed to care so much about his wife, and concerned. "And were you?"

"Alright? Not even close. In fact I was bawling my bloody eyes out. Poor Harry, he didn't really seem to know how to handle that."

"Well, you've always been a bit of a big sister in his eyes. Big sisters don't do that." Remus' lips twitched faintly, but it was a brief smile that soon was drowned, once more, in worry. "I'm really sorry you have to be put through this, Dora. I never thought you'd have to be involved. I thought he was gone for good. I can handle it – I _ought_ to handle it – but you shouldn't have to suffer."

Dora got out of the chair, her hair once more evenly short all over. "You know Handsome, that's really noble of you, but when you think about it, the alternative to me not going through this is Sirius being dead, and no matter how closely this situation may resemble a pile of poop, that is one crappy alternative." She walked a bit closer to him and turned a pair of steely blue eyes on him. "Also, when you say you didn't think I'd ever be involved, it kind of implies that you were never going to tell me that you came close to _marrying_ the guy, which is one big skeleton to be hiding in your closet."

Despite her annoyance, Remus suddenly had to fight a laugh. "Dora, that man hasn't been near a closet in over twenty years," he mumbled, and then quickly sobered up. "And I certainly didn't mean that I whished Sirius would be dead, nor did I mean that I wasn't…" He stopped, checking himself. _Would_ he ever have told her? "Okay, I don't know if I would've told you. To tell the truth, I didn't want to even _think_ about Sirius ever again. Cruel as it might seem, the only thing remembering gave me was guilt and stupid ideas about going down nobly in a flash of flames. But now he's here, and… and you are put in a position where you shouldn't have to be, that's all I'm trying to say. It's not fair."

Now it was Dora's time to laugh. "You should hear one of Snape's little lectures on the fairness of life, that man's pessimism is bleeding contagious. After working with him a week I was almost ready to quit the job, convinced that there was nothing I could do to make the world even remotely better anyway, so why bother? Anyway, my point is that it might not be fair, but I'll deal with it. And really, if you want to keep some of your secrets, that's fine too, it's not like I don't have a few things stashed away in _my_ closet as well."

Remus gave her a semi-annoyed look. "Oh, really? You can't just throw something like that on a person and then expect him to have a good night's sleep afterwards. I'm going to lie awake _all night_ trying to figure out what you meant by that."

Dora stepped even closer to Remus, her eyes a lot softer. "Well, if you're going to be awake all night anyway…"

"Mum? Dad? You're not fighting, right?"

Remus closed his eyes, fighting his suddenly erratic breathing back in check. "No, Teddy, we're not. _We're not finished with this conversation,_" he added to Dora in an undertone. He then looked up at his son standing on the stairwell landing, his turquoise hair ruffled, managing a warm smile.

"And you, young man," Dora said, taking the steps two at a time and then flinging her kid over one shoulder as a sack of potatoes," Are in direct violation of house law number three, paragraph fifteen. No venturing out of bed after bedtime. Punishable by tickling until dead." Then she galloped away to Teddy's room dumping him on the bed to deal out his punishment. The squeals of both mother and child filled the room. However, she could still hear Remus going into _their_ bedroom, and that was more than a little bit distracting. So she stopped tickling her son and looked down on him with a big grin.

"You dead yet?"

Teddy stuck out his tongue and splayed his arms wide, doing the famous Roadkill Impersonation. Nodding in satisfaction, she carefully tucked him in and kissed his cheek, snorting with laughter as he licked her cheek. And then she turned out the lights, said, 'Goodnight, Pup,' and closed the door.

There was a deep, meaningful intellectual conversation that she had left on hold. She went in search of her husband to finish it.

And Remus was right, he didn't get much sleep that night. In the morning, he'd completely forgotten all about Dora's supposed secrets.

* * *

A/N: Don't you worry, folks. There will soon be slash ;D Depend on it.


	4. Amazing Grace

**A/N: **Here we are. After some lagtime we are writing again. Joy, joy, happy joy! And yes, we're having a load of fun.

We also realised that we'd made a stupid mistake. If the timeline is going to work as we've intended, **nine** years have passed since Sirius was curtainivored, and **seven** since the war ended. We're really sorry about this, and since _I'm_ the real potternerd (and was doing the math), I take full responsibility.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Amazing Grace**

* * *

Two months later, Dora woke up in the middle of the night. At first, she couldn't figure out why, but then she noticed that her sheets were soaking wet. Clambering into sitting position, she felt her heart start to race in panic. The water had broken. It was starting. Oh bloody, bloody hell…

"Remus!" she whispered urgently, almost frantically, shaking him rather brutally in hopes of waking him.

"I… what? Dora?" He rolled over, regarding her with sleepily unfocused eyes. Then he frowned, patting the mattress. "It's… wet? What the…?"

"The water, Remus. I need to get to St Mungo's at _once_."

Remus' eyes widened in comprehension, and he bolted from bed, starting to pull clothes on. Dora slowly waddled to follow suit, but he shook his head and threw her a thick cardigan. "No need. I'll call a cab."

They couldn't floo, because there was always a risk of tumbling into the walls, and that could prove fatal to the child. Apparation was out of the question, too. Since the body changed so much during a pregnancy, the risk of Splinching was greater and the consequences a lot worse. A broomstick wasn't even to think of. They had to use muggle means of transportation.

Of course, normally, wizards went to muggle hospitals for deliveries, or had Healers brought to their home. But this wasn't a normal case. This child was the offspring of a werewolf, and although Teddy had clearly not been a carrier of the syndrome, there was no way of guaranteeing that this child would not. Dora could see Remus' hand shaking as he motioned for her to follow him, and knew that he hadn't forgotten. Once more there was that dark and terrible fear in his eyes; that barely stifled panic; all those horrible 'what if's clouding his vision.

_What if it has it?_

_What if I brought this on my own child?_

And she knew that if she started to think about it, if she allowed herself to understand how much that would affect her child's whole life, then she too would start to panic, panic from fear instead of anxiety. And then this was going to be a lot more complicated, and maybe something would go wrong.

Wearing a look of grim determination and a halfway pulled on sweater, Nymphadora pushed the thought aside and followed her husband down the stairs. She looked down at her hand and saw that she was gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles stood out in their bony whiteness against her flushed skin. That was _not_ a sign of fear, she decided. That was a sign of her _controlling_ her fear. Yes. That was it.

_Fine._

The man driving the cab deserved some kind of award. He just cast one look on Dora's big belly and Remus' white face, before turning to the wheel and damn well flooring it. The ride was an inferno of flashing lights passing by outside, little tinkly sparkles all over the murky city night. Dora watched impassively with both arms protectively around her belly, letting Remus do the panicking for her. She'd get time for that later, about when she'd be certain that she was trying to give birth to a walrus rather than a human infant.

And then there was cold night air around her for a short while, before she was herded through the camouflaged entrance and swarmed around by Healers determined to take control of the situation. Since Dora didn't feel like she'd had much of it to begin with, she gladly handed it over along with herself and rather sternly demanded a cup of tea.

They were rushed to a secluded room and swarmed about by all kinds of experts. She noticed that a lot of them were avoiding Remus or referred to him among themselves as 'the werewolf', and this would probably have made her upset if she hadn't been convinced by then that her own womb was going to kill her by the sheer pain of it.

Then there was a lot of people running about, and pain, and blood, and someone put a charm on her that made everything look hazy and faintly pink, and every time she managed to find Remus' face he was looking paler, and people shouted for her to _push_, and she pushed…

"It's a girl," a Healer announced, smiling tiredly at her. But the baby wasn't given to her or Remus. She left the room in the arms of another Healer, while others were already examining her with various spells. Dora closed her eyes. After all this effort, it seemed rather unfair that she wouldn't even get to hold the kid.

Remus' hand was cool against her forehead. "I called Harry. He's bringing Teddy here tomorrow. She should be back by then." Even though his voice was soothing, she could clearly hear how strained it was. Dora only nodded, not wanting to waste precious energy on speaking. There was a short silence and the faint sound of Remus shifting position, and then she felt his lips against her cheek as he kissed her and then rested his forehead against her temple. "Sleep now. You need the rest."

She didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

"Mrs Lupin? Mrs Lupin?" Somebody was shaking her gently by the shoulder. She opened her eyes, and then clenched them shut again and hissed in pain as the sunlight made her brain split open. And then she moved, and felt her whole body throb like a giant bruise; her hips were a melting-pot of dull pain. She heard the swish of curtains, and when she opened her eyes again the light was at least bearable. She looked up at the Healer, and then let her eyes slide over to the chair next to her bed. Remus was asleep, leaning his head against the bedside.

"My daughter?" she mumbled, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"Right here." She looked up, and another Healer, standing behind the first one, was holding a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket.

"Well?" She gave them an impatient look. "Give her here!" As she raised her voice, Remus stirred a bit in his chair, but didn't wake up. The Healers looked at him uneasily, exchanging glances.

"There has been some… complications."

Dora closed her eyes. She had been ready for this. Or at least, she had thought she had been ready for this. But it was worse now, when it actually happened. "She is a werewolf?"

More exchanged glances, more meaningful looks at Remus. "Well… no. Not exactly."

"_Not exactly_ a werewolf? What, she's got a tail? Little fluffy ears?" Dora was losing what little patience was left in her spent body.

"No. But the spells tell us she's partly a carrier of the syndrome. Not enough to ensue transformation, but enough to show. And well… there's her eyes."

"Give her here." It was an order, using the voice of command you were taught on the very first day of Auror School. The Healers obeyed, bus hesitantly, and they handled the girl as if… _what_? Expecting her to bite them?

Looking down upon the pink face surrounded by folds of fabric of a lighter pink, she smiled. Her baby. Wow. And then her eyes opened and yes, Dora had to admit she was a bit startled. She knew enough about babies to know that they were born with dark blue eyes. Of course, in the case of Teddy, they had quite soon turned bright pink, matching her hair, but he'd still looked normal from the beginning.

The girl had eyes that were… sort of yellowish brown. They could've belonged to anyone, they could've been perfectly ordinary, perfectly human, but the impression was still, somehow, animal. That couldn't be denied. But that was _all_. A pair of strange eyes – and god knew that their family was strange enough to accommodate some more strangeness – in an otherwise perfectly ordinary baby face. And when she opened her mouth, she emitted a perfectly ordinary wail of baby rage. Nymphadora gave her the breast and smiled at the Healers.

"That will be all, thank you."

"B-but…"

"It's not a problem. Look, a friend of our family sports fangs and eats his meat raw. He's more of a werewolf than she is, and if his wife can handle that, and I can handle _my_ husband, then her eyes are _not a problem_. Thank you."

"There will be other symptoms while she grows up."

"Really?" Nymphadora said sweetly. "What?"

"We don't know just ye-"

"Well, then, it won't matter until it happens, right? And when it does, we'll deal with it. I already told you. We'll be fine. Can you leave now? I need to speak to my husband."

And they left, looking disapproving and a bit miffed. As soon as they were gone, Remus' eyes opened, his face taking on a look of deep anxiety. "How… how bad is it? I woke up while you were speaking, and…"

Dora shrugged, grimacing a bit as her nipple was manhandled. "She's got funny coloured eyes. And they say there will be other symptoms, although what that may mean is anyone's guess." She smirked. "I'm still hoping for that tail."  
Remus frowned at her. "This isn't very funny, Dora. She's carrying the syndrome. That means anything could happen-"

"Yeah, anything. So let's not assume the worst, shall we? Besides, they said there would be no transformations, and that was what worried me the most. As long as there'll be no pain…"

"There are other things that hurt just as badly," Remus said darkly.

Dora rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes, I _know_. But who will know, besides our closest friends? Unless she actually sprouts a tail, that is. And then we can always say she had an accident with a wand or something." She sighed as Remus looked away, his face still clouded. "Look, it's not that bad. Actually, it's not _bad _at all. You've had a baby, for fuck's sake, look like you're happy about it!"

Remus looked back at her, shocked, and then laughed despite himself. "Of course I'm happy."

"Then act like it. Moron." Dora slapped him over the head, grumbling a bit even as he caught her hand and kissed it, squeezing it tightly in his.

"I just don't want her," his gaze rested on the girl with almost painful love in it, "to… to have something destructive in her that she got from me. That she's diseased because of me."

"She's not _diseased_. She's just not entirely like others. And I can't see why that should be such a bad thing."

"Being different from others means that others treat you differently."

"Well, I've always managed. I'm sure she will as well." She smiled down at her daughter. "By the way, I've come up with a name for her."

Remus frowned. "Didn't we already have some names?"

Dora waved her hand impatiently. "Of course we did. But I'm impulsive and creative and stuff. And I've come up with a name."

Remus' eyebrows did an attempt to jump off his forehead, but he smiled nonetheless. "Very well. Let's hear."

"Elvendork."

Remus snorted with laughter. "Please tell me you're not serious."

"Of course not. That's your old boyfriend, remember?"

She dodged a slap, and he growled at her. "Not funny."

"Sorry, sorry. Anyway, the name's Grace."

Remus tilted his head to the side, considering. "I have to admit… it's not bad."

"Not bad? It's a stroke of genius, and you know it."

"Fine. It is."

"Good, then that's settled."

Remus opened his mouth, a bit startled, and then closed it with an exasperated smile. "Why do I even try? Fine then, it's settled. At least it's not Elvendork."

* * *

When Harry, Ginny and Teddy arrived, Remus and Dora were eating breakfast. Grace was asleep in a cradle next to her bed; the strange eyes hidden she looked like any other baby, and Remus and Nymphadora didn't say anything. Harry and Ginny would probably understand it in time, and probably better than the Healers had too.

Teddy was fascinated. For about five seconds. Then he went away to be fascinated by something else. After all, it was just a baby. He'd seen babies before. His parents just smiled at this. Soon enough he'd realise that having a baby sister was rather special after all, and probably not only in good ways.

Ginny rather quickly found a chair and sat down; her belly was just big as Dora's had been just twelve hours ago. "So, tell me a lie, why don't you?" was the first words out of her mouth.

"Sure. It doesn't hurt one bit," Dora said, grinning crookedly. Ginny sighed and gave her stomach a sceptical look.

"I'm the size of a narwhale. How am I supposed to get this out through that tiny opening?"

Dora grinned. "Tiny? Poor Harry." And she laughed good-naturedly as Harry blushed like a schoolboy. "But to answer you question: Twinkly fairy magic, of course. And oh, it smells of roses and hyacinths."

"Hah," Ginny laughed hollowly. "And try to make my mother understand why I'm panicking. She's so used to giving birth by now that she could probably do it in her sleep. She just told me that, 'it'd come to me', and then it will all seem natural." Nymphadora snorted, and Ginny nodded. "Exactly. And afterwards, dad told me that she had vowed to kill him sixteen times before Bill finally wriggled his way out. So I have a feeling that it only comes naturally after four or five test runs."

They all laughed, although Harry was looking distinctly nervous. Dora comforted him with that he would never be worse than Remus was during Teddy's birth, since he'd been on the brink of an aneurysm and had ran about so much that the Healers had to take him out of there, which earned her a not very serious scowl from her husband.

The laughter had barely died in their throats when, suddenly, Teddy said:

"There's a man in the door."

Remus looked up, and then shot to his feet with a curse, sending his breakfast tray flying.

It was Sirius.

* * *

Sirius reached the door, and stopped at the sound of laughter from the room. Carefully, he positioned himself so that he could have a clear view of the room without being too painfully visible. There was Harry and Ginny, sitting next to each other and holding hands. There was Nymphadora, looking rather worse for wear with her hair, now a rather normal brown, sticking up at odd angles. There was a cradle, supposedly containing the new child. And there was – his heart contracted painfully into a hard lump of concentrated longing – was Remus, his eyes aglow in a way that Sirius remembered from their youth. He was smiling a real Remus smile, not like the bleak once he'd managed during the war, but broad and warm and heartfelt, containing affection for everyone around him. But especially – and his heart shrunk even more, growing icy and sharp against his ribcage – for the woman in the bed, whom his eyes never left for long.

He didn't know how to sort his emotions out – they were just a big tangle of anger and disappointment and love and longing and regret – so he didn't even try. And since he couldn't decide if he wanted to scream or cry or smile or kill himself, he did neither, but stood motionless in the doorway. Mechanically, he moved his gaze away from the agony of the scene in front of him, looking desperately for something to rest his eyes on.

He found it.

It was a small boy, with dark blue hair and green eyes, meeting his gaze steadily. His face was doubtlessly reminiscent of Remus', but the stubborn, sharp little chin was clearly from Nymphadora, as well as the colour scheme, and there was something distinctly Blackish about the somewhat angular eyes. It was Remus' son. Nymphadora's son. Sirius didn't know his name, and felt bad for not knowing. He should've asked. But when? When they were shouting at each other? When Remus told him he didn't love him anymore?

The boy tilted his head to the side, opened his mouth and said, in a clear, carrying voice, "There's a man in the door."

Damn.

Remus was on his feet in seconds, making something fall to the floor with an awful crash, and he was staring at Sirius with eyes that burned right through him.

* * *

There was no lapse between thought and speech, or more correctly, Remus wasn't really aware of either process.

"Get out."

He wasn't sure he regretted the words, not really, but he knew that had he been able to, he would have stopped them from slipping out.

Sirius backed away, looking hurt and shocked, like a puppy receiving a kick from his loving master. "I just… wanted to… see…"

"Remus, for the love of Jesus, Allah, Buddah and friggin' _Bob_, what are you doing? If he wants to see the baby, he can fucking see the baby! He's our _friend_, remember? And considering the fact that I just spent a buttload of fecking painful hours delivering said baby, I think that I have more say than you right now as to who should be allowed in this room." Nymphadora was outraged, what the hell was her dearly beloved husband on about? Granted, she didn't exactly feel comfortable with Sirius' presence either, but it had obviously taken a huge effort out of the man to come there and that showed that it was important to him that they all knew that he still cared. No matter how awkward she felt, Nymphadora had never pushed someone away that genuinely cared about her, and she wasn't about to start now.

Remus stared blankly at a random space somewhere between Sirius and Dora, unable to say anything. As usual, his nutcase of a wife was far more sensible than he was, could ever hope to be, no matter how britishly repressed and desperately controlled he tried to pass himself off as.

Sirius lowered his eyes, trying not to reveal how much it stung to have Dora, of all people, defending him against Remus. Especially since hearing her speak like this, he was suddenly reminded of how much he had truly liked her, once – or actually, just a few weeks ago. It was easy enough to resent her when she was only 'the person that stole Remus from me', but now, suddenly recalling that she was a person whose company he had actually enjoyed, it made the whole thing a lot more complicated.

So he tried to smile at her – or at least to impose a non-scowl upon his face. He didn't think it really worked, but maybe she would understand that he was making an effort. "Thanks. May I…?" He looked over at the cradle in the corner.

"Of course," Dora said with a stern look at her husband. Remus gave her a beseeching look, but opted for silence and sat back down, staring intently at the mess on the floor created by the knocked over breakfast tray.

Awkwardly, aware of the gazes following him, Sirius walked over to the cradle and stared down. A small, wrinkly pink being, a tuft of weasleyishly red hair on its head. It was lying still, but its eyes were open, staring somewhere far off. They looked a bit odd, those eyes, but asking about it would set Remus off like _anything, _he understood that.

"Can I… can I hold it… uhm, him or her?"

Remus looked like he was about to speak, but Dora silenced him with a fierce glare. "Sure you can. Her name is Grace."

Sirius felt, to his surprise, the muscles in his face ease into a small smile as he lifted her, remembering how it had felt when he had first lifted Harry, marvelling at how alike the feeling was. "Little Gracie, eh?"

"_Come here, Harry."_

He looked down at her face. She was doing some kind of complicated grimace, as if trying to decide if there was something she ought to cry about. His smile widened a bit. He wasn't sorry she was born. She was a _baby_. You weren't sorry about babies. And she wasn't Remus' daughter with _Sirius_, but his daughter nonetheless. It counted for… a lot.

"She didn't feel so little coming out…" Dora muttered, lifting the right corner of her mouth in a wry half-smile. Remus couldn't help but smiling a little as well. Trust his darling wife to turn even the most unbearably tense situations into something with dramatic value akin to a tea party in some old aunt's garden.

Sirius almost laughed. Almost, but not quite. He was still far too edgy. But he gently put Grace down again, and then turned and found the blue-haired boy with his gaze. He was watching the grownups apprehensively, as if unsure whether this was one of those situations when it was best to not bother his parents.

"And what's your name?"

The boy gave him a direct look. "I'm Teddy," he said, and then, after some afterthought, "look what I can do." His hair turned orange, and his nose swelled and then retained its normal size. The boy giggled at his own achievement, looking at Sirius expectantly. Sirius tried to look duly impressed.

"That's a good trick. I have a trick too, you know. Want to see?"

Teddy nodded eagerly. "Sure I do!"

Sirius smiled and shut his eyes, and then there was a faint inrush of air as a dog stood where he had been. He padded over to the boy, butting him with his head.

Remus didn't see the transformation, he'd turned to check how everyone else in the room was coping with the situation, sharing tense smiles with Harry and Ginny. Therefore he reacted purely on instinct when _something_ moved towards his son. Sure he knew that the war was over, that they were all safe, but in his heart of hearts there was still that very primal, lingering fear that it had all just been a huge fake out and his life, family and happiness would get ripped away from him. It was that fear that sometimes made him wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and it was that fear that propelled him towards his son in a distinctively protective motion before he realised that it was alright, it was only Padfoot.

About when Remus realised this, it was too late. Padfoot backed away, turning into Sirius in mid-motion, a Sirius that was positively livid. "You actually think that I would hurt your son?" he hissed, so angry that his arms shook with the effort of not pulling his wand, or attacking Remus, or _something_.

"No, Sirius, I'm sorry… it was a misunderstanding." He knew it wouldn't suffice. Sirius was about to have one of his temper tantrums, and chances were slim to calm him down even under the best of conditions. As it were, conditions were so far below bad a word for adequate description had yet to be invented.

"Yes, of course it was," Sirius snarled. "And I'm just being silly and stupid, am I? But thank god Reasonable Lupin is here to save the day."

Had conditions not been of the unparalleled level of fuck-up that they were, Remus might have been able to live up to Sirius' accusation. But they were, and Remus was neither reasonable nor capable of saving anything.

"You know what, last time I checked 'I'm sorry' didn't mean 'You're being silly and stupid', but that's just me being all reasonable, so why bother listening to what I'm saying? Better to just invent an insult and stick to your guns and behave like a complete fucktard!"

Remus hadn't meant to be loud, but somewhere along the way from brain to mouth the intended hiss became a shout.

Dora hid her face in her hands, too tired to make another intervention. She'd given birth, she'd watched her baby rest in the arms of the man who wanted to take her husband from her. She was completely and utterly spent, and honestly didn't want to spend what precious little energy she had left on trying to make two grown men see what they should be able to see for themselves, namely that the room was taking on a definitive air of kindergarten.

"Well, maybe I feel like being a bit _un_reasonable, like mortals like me do from time to time, but I'll just leave and not bother you with it shall I?" Sirius was angry with himself for being on the verge of tears once again, but he couldn't help it. Even though, deep down, he knew that he was being epically stupid, he just let the brunt of all the pain that had built up during these weeks spill out like so much hot, boiling steam out of a pressure cooker. "I mean fuck it, since you so obviously don't want me here, in you new wonderful life, I'll just _go_! It's not as if all those years of friendship matters, is it? After all, I was only your boyfriend, so I suppose it's quite okay to not care about what else we might've been for each other once you _got over_ me, right? I was only your best friend, after all."

Remus laughed. A bitter, mirthless sound almost reminiscent of a bark. "Right, because that's what you're after. _Friendship_." Remus' lips curled around the word like it was distasteful. "I don't believe you. In fact, I don't think you even believe yourself!"

Sirius swallowed down a sob, his voice ragged as he spoke again. "No, of course it isn't what I want. But I would be _glad_ for it, if that is all that you could give me." His face twisted in equal bitterness. "But it seems I'm not even worth that, am I? I'm yesterday's garbage, and should be treated as such. I'm sorry that I ever expected as much."

"Oh, enough with the melodrama! You should have been an actor, this was most definitely an Oscar winning performance for best _retard_!"

"_ENOUGH!"_ Ginny was at her feet, her eyes flashing, the bulk of her protruding stomach creating a barrier between the two combatants. She had her arms crossed above it, and the way she glared at the two men had her mother written all over it. "I've had it with the two of you! I can't believe this! First of all, if you hadn't noticed, there's a _baby _in this room. Would you _mind _terribly keeping your voices down? Secondly, Sirius, this is _not_ the time and place, and before you get high and mighty about it, Remus; thirdly, I'd like to remind you that you're not doing a heck of a job at being even a jot better. Now, you sit nice and quiet, or I swear to god you're out of here! I'm a pregnant woman, I should not have to handle this." That being said, she backed away and sat down, waiting.

Dora thought: I could kiss her. Lesbianism has never been so tempting. _Men!_

Sirius sighed, suddenly lacking even the energy required to be annoyed. He was just… not up for it. For anything.

"It's probably best if I leave, nonetheless. I see that I only ruin things for you. So if it's better for you, then fine." He turned his gaze to Harry, who fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about this. You too, Nymphadora. I'm sorry. I didn't mean… anyway, I'll be going home. Bye." And he left.

Remus went over to the crib, tracing his daughter's pudgy little cheek with his index finger. She was the only one he really felt comfortable with looking at. Anyone else, and the embarrassment would kill him.

"I'm sorry, my little angel. Daddy's not making a very good first impression, is he?"

Her little foggy baby gaze focused somewhere around the general are of his face and he thought that one didn't have to think of her eyes as the ones of an animal. One could think of them as golden. And for some reason that thought gave him the strength to face his family and friends.

"Grace isn't the only one who deserves an apology, I'm really sorry you all had to see that. It was beyond disgraceful." He knew that he should apologize to Sirius as well, and he would. But this was his daughter's birthday and as much as he cared for his former lover, he had already wasted enough of it trying to act like a normal person around him to realise that he didn't want any more of it. He wanted to be with his wife, son and beautiful baby daughter. If Sirius couldn't understand that then… then perhaps he had changed too much for them to ever find a way back to any kind of relationship.

* * *

And as if life wasn't screwing Sirius over enough, Severus Snape was standing on Harry's doorstep, looking ever as insolently smug as he always did, if a bit confused as well. He kept pressing the doorbell, glaring at it when nothing happened.

"They're not there," Sirius said, pushing past him.

"Well, well, well if it isn't Black Beauty, the wounded stallion. Had a rough day did we?"

"Go and stick your head in a cauldron." He fumbled with the keys, anger and disappointment botching up both his motor skills and vision. A slim, white hand picked them out of his grasp, putting the right key in the lock and twisting it.

"Your insults decline in elegance at a pace proportionate to your decorum, I see." Sirius directed a mutinous glare at him. Severus smirked. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that when communicating with you I need to restrict myself to a more limited vocabulary. Let me clarify: The angrier you get, the less capable you are of managing even a passable insult. You suck, Black, and not in a positive, life affirming way." He smiled rudely and left Sirius to splutter and wish that he had never gotten out of bed that morning.

* * *

**A/N:** That's all for this time, folks. You might be wondering where we're getting with this story, but don't fret, we'll try not to take too many detours. A good buildup is always nice, and since this isn't a Hollywood movie, and the audience won't get bored unless something explodes within the first five minutes, we prefer to take our time.

And no, yours truly couldn't resist the Elvendork gag. Nor the serious/Sirius one. Please forgive me.


	5. Darling

**A/N:** Hokay, so here we are again. In this chapter, we are doing some ground work for the rest of the story. So no, we're not going to write out Sirius, we're just trying to establish the basic workings of some people's relationships later in the plot.

Also, we will mention two TV-series a bit further down, and two characters will talk briefly about them. If you haven't seen them, don't worry, it's not some big in-joke that you're not getting. The only thing that we're trying to get across is that both characters share the same abysmal taste for soppy TV-series, nothing else.

There will be some hints about things that will come in this chapter. Some are as huge as Kansas, some are slightly more subtle. One, at least, we're sure that you're all going to get /cue evil cackle

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Darling**

* * *

Richard Darling – the name really wasn't his fault – got up from his chair with a sigh. Since many wizarding families failed to pay much attention to the education of their children before they came to Hogwarts – after all, who needed a basic knowledge of English when you had _magic_?! – grading third-year essays was like wading through a sea of bad spelling and offensive grammar. Nonetheless, he was glad that there _were_ any essays to grade. He remembered all too well how much History of Magic homework he'd ignored during his school days. Of course, since he'd only been a part of the Hogwarts staff for two years, this meant that the third-years remembered what History of Magic had been like under Professor Binns, and were so relieved that they did not have the teacher equivalent of Valium anymore that they were willing to sacrifice themselves a little.

He moved to pull his hand through his hair, and then caught himself, smiling a bit ruefully. Still with that smile on his lips he went over to a cupboard and fished out a bottle of wine. He then acquired a faintly pink crystal goblet of simple design from a shelf, and poured himself a good measure of deep red Merlot, sinking down in the purple velvet of his sofa, all the while humming quietly to himself. It had been a good day. No children fell asleep during History of Magic anymore, he made sure of that. After all, history was important…

Two years ago, they had finally managed to persuade Professor Binns that it might be time for him to retire, him being dead and all. As the news had reached Richard, he had applied for the job, not really expecting to get it. Teaching positions on Hogwarts were a highly desired, and Richard didn't have any real merits to speak for him. That was what he had thought, at least. Obviously, there must've been _some_ reason that Headmistress McGonagall hired him, although he'd had a hard time trying to figure out what, and still hadn't reached a very conclusive answer.

Surprising as it had been, it had been even more surprising when they offered him to become Head of Slytherin House. Richard hadn't even been in Slytherin House, and besides, the positions as Head of House usually went to people that had been on the staff for at least ten years. But when he thought about it, it wasn't really that strange. Despite that Severus Snape had been declared a hero, Slytherin House had gotten a bad name during the war, and it refused to rub out. This angered Richard. It was unfair to blame a bunch of kids for what stupid adults and frightened youths had done more than a decade ago. And fuelled by that anger, he had accepted. He'd cursed himself later, when the duties as Head of House were added to his already heavy workload, but he hadn't regretted his decision. Slytherin House needed _someone_ who believed in them.

Yes, that was it. Everybody needs someone to believe in them. If you don't have that, you don't have anything.

On the opposite wall to where his sofa stood, Richard had placed a full-length mirror, as a reminder. He stared into brown eyes, which stared back at him under slightly arched eyebrows, blonde like the unmanageable, greying curls on his head. His mouth was pulled into a half ironic, half resigned smile. "You look old," he told the mirror. He looked as if he couldn't decide upon if this was good or bad.

He was interrupted by a very subdued knock on the door. He stood up, experienced a brief moment of panic related to the wine in his hand, and then hid it behind a large vase of dahlias. Checking that he looked at least moderately presentable, he bustled over to the door.

The problem with teaching at a boarding school, he thought as he opened the door with a suitably serious expression, was that you never really went off duty. And true enough, before him stood a teenage girl, shuffling around nervously and looking generally out of place. He racked his brains for her name, and was helped by the Hufflepuff insignia on her robe. Rebecca Sparrow, fourth year, right?

"Yes, miss?"

"Excuse me, Professor Darling," she muttered, and Richard held back a smile. 'Professor Darling' still sounded utterly ridiculous, and he had a feeling he would never really get used to it. "But… uhm…" She muttered something unintelligible, staring at her shoes, and Richard took pity of her.

"Would you like to come inside? There is tea." There was _always_ tea. Richard made sure of that.

She gave him a wide-eyed look, and then nodded slowly, as if frightened of making a dire mistake. But Richard was quick to shoo her inside, press a cup of tea into her unresisting hands, and then sit down and wait for her to gather herself.

This took a while. Her eyes wandered over the white wallpaper with golden paisley patterns, the lush colours of the furniture, the multitude of flowers and the exquisite bone china out of which she was drinking her tea. Richard smiled a bit wryly to himself. He'd seen this reaction before.

"What is it you wanted to talk about, dear?"

Her eyes widened even more – if that was even anatomically possible – when he called her 'dear', but then she started to mumble out a somewhat incoherent story about a boyfriend dumping her and an essay she had sort of forgotten on account of being dumped. Richard listened patiently, nodding and looking sympathetic. Finally, he said, "Very well. Just get that essay to me as soon as possible, and try to not let it happen again. Right?"

"Really?" She brightened up a little bit.

"Yes, of course. I trust you." And he gave her a look that said, in a rather expressive manner, that if he found out that his trust had been misused, she was not going to get away this easily next time. The girl nodded hurriedly and mumbled a subdued goodbye, before getting to her feet and retreating to the door. There she paused, seemingly battling herself, before she turned around once more.

"Professor?"

"Yes…?"

"They say that you're… uhm… Is that true?"

"That I am what, dear? Well mannered? English? A frequent guest at opera houses? All of them are true, if that is what you wondered."

"Uh… no… Uhm… Goodbye, Professor!"

She fled. Richard sighed. He'd had three students already asking him if he was 'Uhm', and two if he was 'Er'. Of course he knew what they were trying to say, but he'd be damned if he answered before at least one of them managed to phrase the actual question.

Retrieving his wine, he retreated to his bedroom with a book. It was written by Oscar Wilde, who, as far as Richard knew, neither had been 'Uhm' nor 'Er'.

* * *

When Sirius said he'd leave, he meant it. He walked out of Remus' life and steered clear. For four years now, Remus, who had thought he already had learned to live with Sirius' absence, regretted every day the way things had turned out. Missing Sirius was one thing when you knew that he was gone for good, and nothing could be done about it; it was a completely different matter when you knew that he was somewhere, alive but avoiding you because he was afraid he would ruin your life if he stayed. Because he couldn't contain his anger and disappointment when he was with you. Because he loved you, and it hurt him to have you near.

Dora was sorry for her husband, and she wished there was something she could do, but had a nagging suspicion that _her_ trying to talk to Sirius wasn't going to make things better.

And so time passed. Harry and Ginny's son was born only two weeks after Grace, and to no one's great surprise was named James Sirius. Except for Severus, who rolled his eyes in disgust when he heard, everyone smiled and thought that it was only fitting. Sirius was so deeply moved that Harry was subjected to being equally embarrassment and glad when he saw his godfather turn his face away to hide his tears.

The year after, another son was added to the Potter family, this time named Albus Severus, and both Sirius and Harry were amused to see Severus Snape rendered completely speechless. He had managed to mumble something, eventually, about sentimentality, but Harry was… quite sure that his heart wasn't in it.

The same year that the third Potter child, Lily Luna, was born, Teddy was to enrol at Hogwarts. There was no real suspense involved in waiting for his letter; after all, it's pretty damn obvious that a metamorphmagus has magic.

But the summer before Teddy was to leave, their lives took yet another of those life-changing turns that occur once in a while. It was debated, later, whether this was a good or a bad thing, but Dora was sure that she would always remember that summer, that particular day, with deep fondness.

* * *

Remus woke up by an air-raid alarm going off. He thought. But it turned out, once he had opened his eyes, that it was just his wife. She was looking down at him, wearing a ridiculously large grin, pink eyes, crazily rainbow-coloured hair and clothes after the same fashion.

"Happy Pride!" she hollered once again, taking a flying leap into their bed. Which would've been fine if she had been, say, four or five years old, but a full-grown woman made the whole construction creak alarmingly.

"The hell…!" Remus managed to gasp as he was forcefully evicted out of their bed.

"Get up! Get dressed! You're wearing this!" Dora waved something small and leatherish in Remus' face, it could only be assumed that it was some kind of clothing.

Remus stared in horrified fascination. "What's that? And wait a minute, wear it for _what?_"

"For _Pride,_ silly, the parade! You know, that thing I do with Yoshi every year?"

"What? I'm not wearing that in public!" The rest of what Dora said sank in sometime during his horrified exclamation. Remus had never really met Dora's friend Yoshi, and had a very vague idea of what Pride was in the first place. He thought maybe it had something to do with dressing up in spangled clothes, by some reason. And throwing confetti. Parade-stuff; very glittery such. He thought maybe he'd seen some pictures in the newspaper. "But why aren't you going with Yoshi like you always do?" While he spoke he dragged himself up in a more dignified position on the bed.

Dora's face fell momentarily. "He couldn't make it this year, something about work he said. He won't be able to come here again for… he couldn't even say how long." She shrugged and put the smile back on her face. "Anyway, this means that you'll have to come with me. And the kids!"

Remus shrugged. "Well, sure. But what is the point of it? The parade, I mean."

Dora slapped her forehead melodramatically. "You've lived in the muggle society how long?"

Remus smiled a bit in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I'm still not very good at keeping in touch with it, I'm afraid. Old habits, and all that."  
"Well… Queer people bundle up and have a big party basically. Straight people too, if they're any fun. Anyone who feels like it, really. It's about having the right to be who you are without getting your head bashed in. Sort of."

Remus thought it over. "Well, I can't say I have any objections. That would be pretty damn daft of me. It's a bit _sudden_," he gave his wife a stern look, mostly, he had to admit, because she liked it when he did, "but you usually are. However, I am still not getting out of this house wearing _that._" He nodded at the unidentified piece of leather clothing hanging forgotten in her hand.

Dora smiled like the canary that butchered the cat. "So you might consider wearing it _in_ the house?"

* * *

Sirius pressed the doorbell, feeling, as he always did, a bit stupid as he waited. The door opened after a space of time that was just a bit shorter than what was usual, as if the person opening it by design tried to unsettle all visitors. Which wasn't that unlikely, all things considered.

"Late," Severus commented, in a voice that suggested that this was nothing short of what he had expected. Sirius grimaced and pushed past him; as usual, they didn't exchange any form of greetings.

Sirius knew how this had started, but he didn't really know why. It had just sort of... happened. Severus had visited the Potters at regular basis when he still lived there, and the compulsory insults exchanged had soon turned into lengthy arguments, which turned into debates, which turned into conversations… sort of. They did consisted largely of various methods for insulting each other, but also of a guarded way of trading opinions and experiences in a way that was, if not friendly, then at least not openly hostile.

When Sirius moved out, having found a nice flat for himself where he wasn't constantly underfoot for Harry and Ginny, he had found after a week or so that he was bored, and feeling lonely. Since he visited Harry almost every day, and was actually quite relieved to be able to decide when, he rebutted the idea that it was them he missed. And of course he missed Remus, but he did so all the time, no matter where he was and what he was doing.

So, to his great ignominy, he had to admit to the fact that he actually missed his quarrels with Snape.

One day, he had simply swallowed his pride and turned up on Severus' doorstep. The other man had been surprised, yes, but not as surprised as Sirius had been at finding himself there, having a cup of tea – presented ungraciously and without a word – and arguing about the first thing that came to mind. And it had, over the years, become a habit. They didn't talk about it, but they always kept Thursday and Monday afternoons free.

It wasn't friendship, of course. It was just… tolerance. Frequently happening tolerance. And since neither of them seemed to have anything better to do – the _shame!_ – it wasn't as if they were wasting time that could have been better applied to other uses.

Besides, Sirius conceded, it was nice not to be the only one who remembered how life had been, back then, now that Remus was out of his grasp, and would probably stay that way.

* * *

Dora grinned happily, holding hands with Teddy and Remus with Grace running in front of them attached to a leash that her husband held in a white-knuckled grip.

The street was full of people laughing and shouting, running and jumping and being generally just the way Nymphadora wished they could be every day, all the time. She looked lovingly at the man next to her, regretting a little that she'd never forced him to come with her before, but well… She hadn't been comfortable, even after all these years, with the thought of introducing Remus to Liam. He might get things wrong. She'd still have to deal with that issue at some point, but not right now.

Remus, meanwhile, truly was enjoying himself, in a generally guarded and repressed manner. He didn't quite see why people had to be so… well, naked. And it was absolutely impossible to tell who was a woman, and who was a man, which didn't disturb him, really, but it _was_ confusing. A lot of people were also indulging in a very public form of… canoodling, and this _did_ disturb him. There were children present, for crying out loud! Not that his children seemed really to be bothered, but that was completely beside the point. But despite this, the general festive mood, the happiness that he could see in almost every face, the feeling of absolute freedom that hung in the air like so much laughing-gas… He had to admit it was rather thrilling.

Dora kept her eyes on Remus' face, revelling in the way it slowly became more and more relaxed. The smile that crept over his features almost brought tears to her eyes, and that would have made her feel silly if she'd still been the kind of person who feared silliness.

When Remus noticed her staring, however, she was a little embarrassed anyway, and after the tender kiss he planted on her lips she felt a need to take in the surroundings. If nothing else to stop being so goddamn horny.

She saw happy people, she saw drunken people, she saw people with and without clothes and then she saw…

"Remus, take Teddy, I'll be back in a jiffy", she said, sticking her son's hand in Remus' before taking off into the crowd.

He looked out of place, at the same time as it was obviously apparent just how much he belonged in a Pride-parade, and something about that made a light go off inside of Dora. It was that way with some people, she could just sense that if she didn't talk to that person the very instant she spotted them, he or she would be lost to her forever, and what she'd have lost would be something utterly precious.

"Hi, I'm Nymphadora. I'll never forgive my parents for it," she said, sticking her hand out to the perfect stranger she had decided would become her new friend.

Richard Darling looked the remarkable young – no, not young, just young-looking – woman in front of him, his eyebrows arching ever so gently. He then took her extended left hand and shook it. "My name is Richard Darling. I'm not to blame for that. It is undoubtedly a pleasure to meet you, but why is this pleasure bestowed on me?" Something about her, he didn't really know what, reminded him of someone, so maybe he had met her before, in which case this could undoubtedly get quite awkward. But on the other hand – hah! - he'd never know until he asked, would he?

"Oh my, how utterly British of you!" Dora said with a huge smile, shaking her head. "Because I like you of course! Or rather, I will like you once we sit down and have coffee for a few hours. Which we will."

Richard was momentarily baffled by the sheer oddness of the enthusiastically grinning creature in front of him. How many people spontaneously decided to become friends with a complete stranger they just thought they might like? But then he thought, why not? Life would certainly be a lot more interesting and a lot less complicated if people were a bit more like her. So he smiled his best British smile and nodded.

"I would never deny a lady a favour. I tell a lie, there are very many favours I would deny a lady, but coffee seems harmless enough. Are you here in company, or?"

"Yup, here with the husband. He's the hunk over there trying to hold hands with our son at the same time as wrestling with our daughter." Dora pointed towards her family, watching Richard's face take on an expression of mild amusement. Perhaps it was her use of the word 'hunk' when referring to a man that was at least as old as Richard and looked a little older that seemed funny. "But we'll ditch them, having Gracie around would make it impossible to have a decent conversation," she continued and bounced off to tell her husband that he was stuck in a huge parade with their erratic daughter and well mannered but inquisitive son, and that she was taking off.

"Remus, I'm taking a coffee break! Stay."

Remus looked up from trying to hold his daughter still on his left arm – she had tried to escape the leash around her waist by chewing through it – and gave his wife an exasperated look. "What? You are taking a coffee break from Pride?"

"We'll be proud when drinking it?"

Remus sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, composing himself. "And I take it you're leaving me here with the kids?"

"It wouldn't exactly be a break with the pups present, now would it? I've made a friend, so pleeeeease take the kids? I'll make it up to you?"

Ah. Dora had made a friend. She did that. "Years of servitude wouldn't make it up to me," Remus said, and when he saw her face fall slightly, laughed. "Of course you may leave. I'm sure as long as you make the _effort_ of making it up…" He left the sentence hanging in the air, flashing out the Morse code for 'SEX'. "So who's your friend? Just so I'm sure you're not running off with an axe murderer. Or a really good-looking young man named Julio. With a guitar. And a moustache."

Dora snorted with laughter and pointed towards Richard. "Julio's over there, we're leaving for Rio tonight and you'll never see me again."

Remus looked over to see a man in his own age, plump, short and with everything but the word 'GAY!' written in his forehead. He had to admit that he hardly seemed like a threat. "Very well then. Just make sure…"

Whatever he was about to say is lost to posterity, as he in that moment was interrupted by Teddy pulling at his hand. "Dad, look, there are three naked women over there kissing without clothes." He sounded severe rather than upset, but Remus was for a moment busied with trying to as diplomatically as it was possible redirect his son's attention. And once he turned his attention back to Dora, there was no Dora to attend to.

* * *

"Come on, let's go! I know a place that serves the gayest coffee ever."

Richard looked a bit dubious. "Actually, I was aiming for a cup of tea."

Dora shook her head with a stern face. "Oh, no, I never have tea on a first date. We're having gay coffee."

"I know I'm going to regret this, but what on earth is gay coffee?"

"It's coffee with so much chocolate and cream and just… _stuff_ in it, that you can't really taste the coffee."

Richard laughed. "Everything gets better once you make it gay, obviously."

"Of course!" said Dora, who was so straight she walked into things.

* * *

"So," Richard said once they had acquired their gay coffee and sat down in a small, dingy sofa in the back of a shop, "you're a metamorphmagus."

Momentarily baffled, Dora snapped around to fix her gaze on her new friend. "How the hell…" She changed tactics in mid-sentence. "You know, I _could_ have dyed it."

Richard snorted. "I'm a gay man fighting grey hairs. There is no way in… Pittsburgh anyone can dye their hair to look as natural as yours does. Especially if it happens to be in every… darn colour of the rainbow."

"It could be a really nice wig?"

As a reply, Richard simply grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. "Nope. Not a wig."

"Ow! I said _could be_! What are you, stupid?" Dora yelled, intensely liking the man.

"First rule of the inquisitive mind: Thesis, experiment, conclusion. And I'm a teacher. I live as I learn."

"Oh, my husband's a teacher!" Dora said, and Richard's eyes seemed to flicker for the shadow of an instant. "He works at a muggle school," she continued, and the man beside her seemed to relax immensely. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but she'd just gotten to know him, and she wasn't sure that she'd read his body language correctly. It could be nothing, and if it was something she supposed she'd find out eventually if they became good friends. "So what do you teach, Ricky?"

"History of Magic, and you're not calling me Ricky, Fanny."

"Fanny? Oh well, anything's better than Nymphadora I suppose… But hey, this means you'll be my son's teacher! He starts school next term!"

"Does he know any basic grammar at all?" Richard asked, looking for a moment rather tired.

"Both grammar and spelling are as impeccable as can be expected from an eleven years old boy. No thanks to me, I must admit, but Remus always had this pained look on his face when talking about correcting essays in Hogwarts, he used to work there, so I just let him keep on drilling Teddy. It's not like the kid minded, he's thrilled about whatever his father wants to teach him," she smiled a half-sad smile, "Me, I'm just the embarrassing mom that he can't believe manages to be an un-cool Auror."

"I feel great sympathy for your husband," Richard said, meaning it with all of his heart. "And I am sure that once he manages to grow into his own head and learns to laugh at himself, your son find out just how cool his mother really is." Yes, he liked the woman. She was straight to the point, something Richard had had just too little of during his lifetime.

"Thanks, Richard," Dora said with a genuinely sunny smile. "Anyway, let's talk about _important _things! Like TV!"

Richard was momentarily thrown by the sudden redirecting of the conversation, but he was fifty years old and wasn't going to loose his footing over such a small snag as this. "Very well. Throw me one, and let's see if I can catch it."

Dora narrowed her eyes, trying to think of something that would challenge Richard's levels of bad taste and help her discern just how good a friend she might have found. "Okay… Dawson's Creek."

Richard smiled widely at her. What a charming woman. "So if we're to be friends… Would you be the Dawson to my Joey?"

Dora bounced out of her seat with a delighted yelp. "Oh, Richard! I do!" She sat back down and flung her arms around Richard in a not very polite, but very heartfelt hug.

After returning the hug in slight bewilderment for a few seconds, Richard leaned back and looked around at the people staring owlishly at them from every corner of the shop. Some were smiling, others were frowning. Oh dear, he thought. "You do realise, Fanny, that everyone in here is now under the impression that I just proposed to you?"

"Our souls have just been joined together by the bonds of bad taste, it's almost the same as a marriage anyway, and just as good. At least if you leave sex out of the picture."

Richard was getting more and more fascinated by this woman by the second. She seemed completely unaware of the usual sort of boundaries with which people restricted their interaction with other human beings, and it was really quite liberating. "I suppose we were just made for each other," he conceded, nodding in amused agreement.

"No!" Dora exclaimed with a bombastic voice, "I have one more test for you. A trial by fire which you must pass through or crumble to dust as the pitiful wretch you've revealed yourself to be."

"Give me your worst, captain."

"If I say Angel, you say…?"

Richard smiled shrewdly, meeting her gaze with a steady eye. "Why, Spike, of course."

Dora took a deep breath, "You are almost there, _but,_" she raised a warning finger, "do you mean that in any other sense than that they obviously want each other and must shag?"

"Is there any other sense worth considering?"

"Oh my shagging, tap-dancing Mary mother of God! You really are too good to be true! Where have you been hiding all my life?"

Richard thought that over. "Nowhere special. It's probably a story that we could wait with for a while." In this instant, Richard recalled his coffee – sorry, his _gay_ coffee – and realised that it had probably gone stone cold. Deciding to take a chance at it anyway, he reached for it… and missed.

"Bugger!"

"So how'd you lose the hand anyway?" Dora said with her usual tactfulness.

Richard lifted the cup with his existing hand and sipped it, discovering that with gay coffee, it obviously didn't matter whether it was cold or not. "Oh, that. It was just a stupid accident, really. Let's just say I was an idiot and deserved what I got."

"Ah, perhaps you were the one that stole first place in the Stupid Awards that year when they told me I'd been a very close runner up, but just didn't have that last inch of Stupid that it took."

"Honey, believe me, I've been the running champion for several years."

"Really? I'm a huge fan. I mean, you've been my inspiration for ages! Can you imagine the glories of a story called 'I was a teenage metamorphmagus'?"

Richard smiled a bit sourly. "Don't bet on it. But ah, yes, I can quite see your point. I do think we have a lot in common, and I don't only mean that in a highly insulting way."

"Aren't you a sweetie. But you know what, though I'm all for spilling your guts all over total strangers, I do feel that it could sort of kill the mood, and I have a good enough feeling about you and me to think that there will be other coffee breaks so maybe we should save the painful stuff to some other time when we care enough about each other for it to really matter."

Richard smiled gratefully. "Good idea. I have a feeling that you'd have to care quite a lot about me to forgive some of the more atrocious bits."

Dora nodded and put a hand on Richard's shoulder. "So… _music_."

* * *

Nine o'clock in the evening, Remus finally heard the racket in the hallway that signalled Dora's arrival. When she entered the living room, he had poised himself quite strategically in an armchair facing the door, his arms crossed over his chest. "So? Explain yourself."

Dora gave her husband an embarrassed look, but it didn't last long. "I'm sorry honey, it started with coffee and ended with heated, raunchy sex in a public toilet."

Remus snorted. "Yes, because you are clearly very manly and could undoubtedly fool a gay man to think you're a man as well. I just wish you could call home when you decide to run off like that."

_I can_, though Dora, but didn't say it out loud. "Oh, you know me, I still haven't gotten the hang of that mobthingamagee."  
"Mobile phone?"

"Yeah, that." She went over to armchair and sat down in Remus' lap. "I'm sorry, but I really got on with Richard and I completely lost track of time. You're an absolute angel for taking care of the kids, and I'm ever so grateful," she said planting a light kiss on her husband's nose.

Remus tried to glare sternly at her, and failed in seven different languages. "Very well then. Just… try." He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. "So, I take it he was given at least an A, then?"

"Nope, an AFB."

"AFB?" Remus said patiently.

"Absolutely Fucking Brilliant!"'

"I see. So there will be more coffee breaks, sex in public bathrooms and trips to Rio?"

"Remus, is that jealousy in your voice?"

"I think I should have better judgement than to be jealous of a gay man," Remus said a bit stiffly. "I merely wanted to know if I should be prepared for you running away from home again."

Dora pulled a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I will, but I'll make sure you know where I am."

"Good. And I want a written enquiry at least two weeks beforehand. Which I might, or might not – after it has been resent, _re_resent, made into origami and composted – agree to." He hid the smile trying to pull the corners of his lips upwards by giving her a long, devout kiss.

The kiss left Dora breathless, and it was with some difficulty she managed to squeeze out, "The kids?"

"Very much asleep," he mumbled, a bit hoarsely. "Grace has scaled the walls ever since we came home from the parade, and crashed into bed at eight. And I believe you have some making up to do..?"

* * *

**A/N: **So, how many of you choked on your meals? Heeheehee.


	6. I Was A Teenage Metamorphmagus

**A/N:** Okay, we know, lots and LOTS of groundwork is being done here. Sorry about this, but before the action can start we need to get several things beaten into the ground with the literary equivalent of steel hammers. So. This.

We promise there will soon be some action coming up, because we like putting firecrackers under people's arses as much as anyone. Don't you worry.

We were somewhat surprised that one of the hints we dropped was sort of... not noticed. We suppose we were taking a lot for granted, and have thus proceeded to drop a LOT more clues to that effect in here. Yay!

Oh, and there is a quote. It is not that... inconspicuous, so it shouldn't be that hard to find. Still, spot it, and get a cookie.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**I was a Teenage Metamorphmagus**

Summer passed, and there were numerous coffee breaks, but the trip to Rio was indefinitely postponed. Richard had been introduced to the Lupin family, and had come over for dinner a couple of times. But as Richard had seemed a bit uncomfortable during these dinners, Dora had, with unusual tactfulness, decided to not force his entering into her family. It would simply have to take the time it needed. It was apparent to her that Richard was a bit of a reclusive, and probably needed to get used to one friend at a time.

Richard was in his own way quietly grateful, and decided to himself that maybe, at some time, Dora would get to know just how much.

And then autumn was looming in the distance, and on August the 23rd, Richard packed his things and left for Hogwarts to set things in order for the next semester. However, he had barely settled in when there was a knock on his door, and opening it he found himself pleasantly surprised.

"Housewarming party!" Dora shouted, waving a bottle of champagne in Richard's face with one hand and a bunch of silly and romantic movies with the other.

"You are of course aware of that I've been here for two years already," Richard said, ushering his enthusiastic friend through the door and relieving her of the champagne.

"Well, knowing you, you never had a housewarming party in the first place so it doesn't matter," Dora replied evenly, plonking down on one of Richard's ridiculously stuffed, cushioned and very, very colourful sofas.

Richard chuckled quietly, extracting the cork from the bottle with a very absentminded wave of his wand and pouring the golden liquid into two darkly purple crystal flutes. "Ladies first," he said, and grabbed one of the glasses.

Dora nodded in agreement and took the other flute, scrutinising it with a half-grin. "Have I told you lately that you have appalling taste?"

"Last Saturday, I believe, when you saw my new curtains."

Nymphadora shuddered. "Combining brown and pink is bad in itself, but that pattern… I almost had a seizure!"

Richard smiled slyly and sipped his champagne. "My taste is bad for my karma, I believe."

"Okay, this is getting too painful for me so I thought we'd talk about my school years here at Hogwarts instead."

Dora put her drink down, after taking a huge gulp for courage, and continued with unusual severity in her voice. "I know you have a lot of stuff in your past that you feel bad about, more so than I could ever know I think, and I understand if you don't ever feel like you can tell me about them. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to send you out on a guilt trip or anything, I'm just trying to say that just because I feel ready to tell you about my secrets I don't expect you to feel the same." She looked Richard straight in the eyes, trying to convey how much she meant what she was saying. "You are, and considering the people I have around me this is really saying something, the best friend I've ever had, and I would feel honoured and grateful if you would share in my memories and get to know the whole me."

Richard had laughed at first, appreciating the joke since he had a feeling Nymphadora had enjoyed her school years as little as he had enjoyed his. But as she continued talking he carefully freed his face from any incriminating expression, unconsciously recoiling a bit. "There are… many things that I… Please understand that I trust you more than I have trusted anyone in… a very long time. But there are some things that I barely trust myself with knowing about my past, and I will need to know even you a lot more before I can talk about them with you." He drew a deep breath, forcing a smile. "However, school memories are a relatively safe area, and I too would be honoured if we could share them with each other."

Dora saw the expression of horror lurking in Richard's eyes, and realised that she didn't really want to think about what he might have done to provoke such fear and shame. She liked him too much.

"Okay, since I brought up the subject, I'll go first." Another swig from the glass of champagne, this time emptying it. Without a word, Richard refilled it.

"When I was a kid and went to Hogwarts, I was so exited, you know? It felt like a dream come true or something."

"Hah. I was so frightened I nearly shat my pants. But do go on."

"Yeah, well, I'd been fed on stories about what a wonderful place it was and I just swallowed it all. I just thought that everyone there would be nice and friendly and we'd all study magic together and be the best of friends." She smiled wryly. "Except for the Slytherins of course, because they were all evil and deserved to burn in hell."

"Of course," Richard replied rather sourly, but with an amused sparkle in his eyes. "And in a place full of teenagers and pre-teens, everyone just has to be nice."

"Naturally. Don't judge me too hard, I had a sheltered upbringing. Unkindness was a pretty unknown concept to me. So, there I am, a newly elected and happy little Hufflepuff…"  
"You were a Hufflepuff? Fancy that."

"We're badass, we just hide it well. But you should just shut your trap, bloody Slytherin."

Richard smiled slyly, poking her in the chest with a playful finger. "Wrong. I was in Gryffindor, asshole."

"Same shit, different name."

Richard snorted with laughter, and then coughed as he managed to get champagne down his windpipe. "Too true. Besides, the hat _did_ consider putting me in Slytherin. So I threatened it with the Swiss army knife I had in my pocket, and it agreed to put me in Gryffindor for my boldness."

Now it was Nymphadora's turn to choke on her drink. "You _didn't_!"

Richard shrugged, smiling. "Well, I was a meek little thing and I knew it. I would've been positively butchered in Slytherin. And I was sure that they would be a lot nicer in Gryffindor. Don't judge me. I had a sheltered upbringing."

"I do love you, Richard, " Dora said with a fond smile. "So anyway, it all began alright, but I mean, you must know the general opinion of Hufflepuffs in this school. I mean, I wanted to be an Auror, and people were telling me that I'd never make it, I was just a stupid little badger and I should go back to my hole. A better person, a stronger one, would have ignored them and kept going, but I wasn't very strong at all, and I started to believe them. Then, as we all grew older, things started to be about looks, about being cool and attractive. Can you imagine the temptation of being able to look just the way you want, or the way anyone else wants?"

"Oh, yes. If I had been able to do the same, I'd have been six foot tall with huge muscles and a face like a Greek god." He laughed a bit ruefully. "But I couldn't, and I wasn't. Not by a long shot."  
"You're a Greek god to me anyway, and believe me, in a way you were lucky." Dora rubbed her temples in a tired gesture, it wasn't pleasant thinking about these things. "It began with small things, like making my newly acquired tits just a little bigger than they really were… Quite a lot bigger actually…"

"While I wished mine away…"

"And then it was all this huge, terrible vortex of catering to everyone's vision of the perfect girl. And to prove just how cool and beautiful I was, I started to behave like a right bastard towards anyone that wasn't as perfect as me. I mean, imagine the snottiest, most disgusting little bitch you can, and take that times seven and you won't even get close to what I was like by a long shot."

"Believe me, I _knew_ girls just like you. And boys, for that matter. They are as constant as the sun, and cockroaches." Richard sighed a bit, swirling the drink around his glass a bit. "Do you remember the little grey mouse that always followed you around and applauded everything you did and was actually _really_ annoying, I mean, _hello_?"

"Yeah, I actually had a few of those."

"That was me."

"Ouch. I would have treated you like owl droppings."

"I would've been glad of it. I was really quite a pitiful little spineless mess."

"The trickiest bit in all this was that I didn't want my parents to know about my 'new look'. I told myself that I wasn't ashamed, that it was just to avoid getting into fights with mom because she wouldn't _understand_ me. I'm not sure I believed it even then. So every time I went home, I changed back to my normal face… kind of. You see, it's pretty tricky to remember what you're supposed to look like, when any change can be maintained indefinitely without effort. So every time I changed back it was slightly… wrong. I didn't get it quite right. And with every change, the difference between what I looked like at home and at school became smaller. I could see that mom was worried about me, but I was a teenager, I wasn't about to admit that my parents might be right about something."

"I can imagine that since you were going to a boarding school, it was hard for her to tell if she was just imagining things, as well."

"Exactly. She had no idea what to do. And then when I came home from my sixth year, I couldn't change at all. I became literally hysterical and had a nervous breakdown. I didn't really understand why it freaked me out so much, since I'd almost managed to convince myself that the whole Barbie thing was the way I was _supposed_ to look. Mom didn't buy that for a second, saying that if that was my true appearance, why was I so devastated? So when I'd managed to calm down, we sort of… looked at photos and experimented and came up with something that might be my true face, or something more similar to it than the look I had created over the years. I still don't know how to create the face I was born with, though I _do_ know it sometimes spontaneously appears. On special occasions."

"Special _intimate_ occasions?"

"Oh, you deviant. But yeah, special _intimate_ occasions. Though not always as intimate as your perverted mind might think."

Richard just smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, you know very little of my perverted mind, and lets keep it that way for now. But how did your blonde and beautiful friends take your new old look?"

"They didn't take it at all, you might say. I was ignored, utterly and completely. Except for Yoshi. He'd been one of my grey mice, you might say. A very correct, studious type. A Slytherin, in fact, and I never really got why until we sat down and had a talk when I came back to school as… well, me. I made sure people knew that it was me, real sure. I stood up in front of everyone during the opening… banquet? Whatever, the meal had after the Sorting Ceremony. I said, 'Hey everyone, it's me, Nymphadora Tonks. This is what I look like now. What I really look like. Just thought I might tell you so y'all can recognise me,' and sweet, cream filled Jesus did they stare. I sometimes wonder if it was the new look or the new attitude that threw people of the most. So I was alone. People actually avoided even walking too close to me in the corridors, like I was a rabid creature that might suddenly jump at them and rip their throats out. I mean, my old 'friends' didn't want anything to do with me because I was no longer cool, and everyone else just hated my guts because I'd always been such a bitch. And then all of a sudden there was Yoshi, asking me if I wanted to take a walk. We went to the lake and sat down under a tree, and just talked and talked and talked. We were so totally different, but that was okay. He told me he was gay and I thought 'ew', but didn't say anything because who was I to judge the one person that bothered to care about me? In time of course I realised that there was nothing 'ew' about it at all, but that goes without saying. Anyway, it was during that conversation I realised why Yoshi was in Slytherin. The things he'd done to conceal who he was almost came close to what I'd been doing, and we both realised that we didn't want to do it anymore, and that if we were going to be freaks we might as well put some effort into it. So I made my hair short and… green I think it was at first, and covered my robes in pins with weird or funny texts and pictures, while he started wearing makeup and embroidered his robes by hand with the most fantastic patterns. He's really, really talented. I can't believe he chose to work with computers."

Richard listened attentively to her story, alternately smiling and looking sympathetic. "You were very lucky to have a friend like him," he said finally. "I will say nothing against the friends I had, I don't think I really have the right, but they never really wanted to know what or who I was. I mean, one of my friends was as flaming gay as they come, and when he came out it was this big thing and we all talked very seriously about it. Lots of drama, lots of manly hugs, and later confessions of love. But me… I just didn't really know what I could say that hadn't already been said and besides, why should they care? Gay or not, it wasn't as if anyone was ever going to go out with me. So I never told them, because I thought it didn't matter. Which just proves just how little I knew. And so I never tried to make them see the real me, and maybe they just thought that there was nothing else to me than what they saw, I don't really know. I want to think that, at least, because thinking otherwise would mean that they knew that there was more but just… didn't care. I'm rambling."

"Well, I've been rambling too, so it's kind of… what we're doing here. Rambling. And I know I was lucky, Yoshi was a fecking godsend. I mean, without him my loneliness would have crushed me flat, but with him we had this crazy little bubble where we could just go totally spazz and give the rest of the world the finger. It made my last year more than bearable, and when I went through Auror training he kept me sane. So I get where you're coming from, and I'm so sorry for you. I mean, it's difficult to see when someone's in pain sometimes, even if that person is your friend, and it's just… crap that all the friends you had managed to miss it."

"Well… they were really good friends, I mean, at least they acknowledged me as a friend at all, so I was luckier than most hangers-on. But I was never their equal. In anything. I was the least attractive of the gang, I couldn't keep myself on a broomstick if I was nailed to it, and when it came to school… I wasn't bad as such. Just… mediocre. I was only good at one thing, and…" His eyes clouded over, and he bit his lip. "It wasn't exactly something I was proud of, even though my friends seemed to think it was brilliant."

"What was it?"

"The… uh, defensive part of Defence Against the Dark Arts. You know, curses and jinxes and stuff. The only thing I was really good at was hurting other people. Which sucked elephant balls, to put it in your charming way."

"That does sound a little suckerish, I must agree with you there. And wasn't it nice of them to keep you around?" Dora's voice reeked of bitterness. "How noble of them, who were so cool, to treat you as a friend. I bet it earned them a few admiring looks because they were so _kind_. It worked for me."

Richard looked a bit haunted. "I don't think they did it by design, not really. But of course they liked the admiration. And I acted like a – pardon me – pussy, so it was only natural that I sometimes got treated as one. But at least I was safe from them in other ways. They were way arsier towards other people. People who think Gryffindors are noble all the time should've met them when they were at their worst."

"The houses are bullshit, that's what I think. I mean, and sorry for saying this about your working place, the whole system reeks of ass! What is the point of giving children a reason to get a pre-designed point of view about other people? They do that anyway and we shouldn't be helping them. Besides, in the end we're all just people. There are asshole Gryffindors and sweet Slytherins and really, _really_ stupid Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who wouldn't know loyalty if it bit them in the ass! It's all a load of bull that kids are, as a rule, not mature enough to see through. As a result we get these weird self-fulfilling clichés that doesn't really fit anyone but everyone still tries so hard to apply, and therefore we get people like… well, that snotty little brat Draco Malfoy."

Richard looked away. "He must've been before my time;" he said, in a voice that was maybe just a bit strained. "But I understand what you're saying and I do agree, even if I had never," he smiled teasingly at her, "thought you had it in you to go all _political_ on me. Let's broach the subject of religion next, why don't we?"

"Oh, come on, give me a break! I'm an Auror, it's my job to be political. And I never touch religion, it upsets my digestion."

At which point Richard was bent double with laughter and had to take several moments before he could speak again. "My lord, you are a precious woman, aren't you? So, why don't you give me another dark, dangerous secret of yours?"

"Well, I could toss you a little something that I've actually been to chicken even to talk to my own husband about."

"The plot thickens."

"Shut up… Well, the only other person in the world to know about this is actually Yoshi, so feel privileged." Once more Dora went for her glass, this time sipping a little more carefully. "What I'm talking about is a nice little piece of work named Liam."

"Well, I never took you for an unfaithful girl, so I'm ruling out that option, and find that I've quite run out. Pitiful, I know. So tell me, who is Liam?"

"Me. He's me."

"Oh my. Transsexual much?"

"More like transvestite, just better at it than most. I invented him during my fifth year, I needed some way to blow off some steam, so I created this male persona that was everything I couldn't be. So he started out as this really kind and sweet kid, and nowadays he's more of a bastard."

"You flatter yourself too much." Richard dodged a slap. "I am horsing around with you, moron. I understand what you mean. Only, I've spent so much of my life being the bad persona that I am now permanently inhabiting the good one."

"Well, I don't think Liam and I are really that different, but when I'm him I can be more 'dangerous' if I like, though I'm probably kidding myself. He's not tall, and not _that_ handsome and lives on a ten foot attitude that probably makes people think he's a jerk. But I like it anyway."

"You know, he reminds me of someone I used to know…"

"Ouch, coming from you that sounds bad…"

"Well, J- he grew out of it, eventually. Maybe your Liam will too. Though I doubt it."

"He won't, but that's okay. I like dressing up in leather and being a ridiculous faggot with balls for brains. But, as I said, I haven't dared telling Remus. I don't know why, perhaps I'm scared that Liam would remind him of Sirius somehow… You know, Sirius, the old boyfriend I told you about? 'Cause we're related… but maybe I told you that too? Anyway, we share some features and since Liam was an effort to create what I might look like as a man, those feature sort of stand out more. And I can't change Liam's face now, he's not a metamorphmagus, I am. He looks the way he looks."

"I understand. It would be a bit creepy if R- if your husband started seeing his old beau in you, yes. Not that I really think he would. That man is so utterly besotted with you that it's ridiculous."

Dora blushed. "I… uh… well… Oh, crap. Thanks. It means a lot to me that you say that." She thought about mentioning Richards strange way of almost saying something (a name?) before hurriedly correcting himself, but something made her back away from it. A feeling that whatever it was, she wasn't ready to know, or Richard wouldn't hesitate.

"Of course it does," Richard said rather bluntly. "He means the world to you. Him and the children. I have to admit that I envy you a little bit, but without you I… I wouldn't feel like I had any family at all." Embarrassed by his own sentimentality, he busied himself with filling up his almost empty glass.

"I'm glad you feel like that, because you are a part of my family. Now, want to see what Liam looks like?"

And that was that? Obviously, she had just assimilated him into the family, whatever he might've felt about it. Richard smiled fondly. That was his Fanny. "Of course I want to see him."

So she changed. She'd put on loose fitting men's jeans and an equally loose T-shirt to accommodate the increase in size. Liam was in no way a big man, but he was still bigger than Dora.

His jaw was square and stubborn, inviting any asshole to try to punch it. Because he liked it that way, he left a fair measure of stubble on it, going for the rugged look. The lips were a little too full to qualify as 'manly', something he'd never been very pleased with, and his nose was a bit crooked. Heavy eyebrows threw shadows over sparkling, almond shaped eyes that alternated between being slate grey and sky blue depending on his mood and the way light fell on them. The head was crowned with a mop of chestnut hair that seemed a bit reluctant to cooperate with anything or anyone, being neither straight, nor curly and growing in all sorts of directions, reminding rather a lot of dog fur.

The body was good. Of course he would have liked to be taller, but you can't have everything. He had nice muscles, broad shoulders. Nothing to complain about really, though he was quite hairy, but that could have been dealt with if he'd felt like going through the pain, which he didn't. So it was all good.

"So, this is what I look like."

Richard looked amused. "Very macho, Liam. As an old, experienced faggot, I'm impressed."

Liam grinned, his smile slightly more predatory than Dora's. "I'll never forgive Dora for trying to be realistic. I mean, I could have been a tall hunk of… James Dean, or Errol Flynn or… you get the picture. And what does she do? Try to make a realistic version of herself as a man. Like that is even possible to figure out, and what the hell made her think she'd be hairier than a yeti? And I wasn't going for macho so much as… ruggedly handsome. But of course, with her low self esteem she wouldn't picture herself as handsome, the silly cow."

"Oh, I don't know, you definitely don't look bad. What I'm trying to hint very discreetly at is that you don't have anything to complain about, so tune down a bit."

"I don't do discretion. Anyway, I'll sod off now and let you girls get back to whatever you were doing, this was just meant to be a quick demonstration, we can do the male bonding thing another time."

And with that, Liam became Dora again. "Okay, that was scary," she said with a faint smile. It had been terrifying. What if Liam would have done something really stupid and made Richard hate them both? You never knew with that loose cannon.

"He didn't look that scary to me," said Richard, who had seen a _lot_ scarier. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll get along fine, even if he seems to take himself a little bit too seriously. But I always enjoy making fun of people like that, so that's fine."

Dora laughed. "It's not so bad, really. He's just never gotten over the fact that I didn't make him into a sex-god when I had the chance. He just keeps bringing it up, I guess it's really _me_ being annoyed that I didn't make him a sex-god. He is me after all. It's not a split personality thing, we're the same person. I just act a little different and look a _lot_ different when I'm him."

"I know. But I enjoy teasing you as well." He smiled at her, waving a hand toward his small kitchen. "Now, I do think we should leave being serious for now and have something to eat. You did say it was a housewarming _party_ after all, and though I've never been much of a party-goer myself, I do know that only the really bad ones end in tears and confessions. Besides, if we drink any more champagne on empty stomachs your husband will think that I am some kind of a deviant trying to corrupt his beloved wife by getting her sloshed."

"Agreed."

* * *

"It's been bloody cold out lately."

"If you talk about the weather, Black, I will Crucio you out of what little mind you still have left."

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. "Why this aversion towards the weather?"

"It's the weather. You can hardly avoid it, so talking about it is pointless and marks a lack of intellectual acuity. If anyone might've avoided the fact that the next Ice Age seems to be approaching, he or she either doesn't get out enough, which you know I do, or has lousy powers of perception, which at least I know I don't."

Sirius was reluctantly amused, and turned his face away a bit so that his smile wouldn't be that obvious. "You do have a talent for being insulted by even the most casual comment, don't you?"

Snape's lips curled in return. "It is a gift."

It was always like this. There was the awkward pause when they didn't know who should try to speak first. Then one of them would venture some noncommittal comment about one thing or the other, and the other one would find a way to disagree, or take offence, or both, and by then they would forget that they were not friends and chatter on like a couple of old ladies.

"Mweep." Something small and fluffy landed in Sirius' lap, giving him a green-eyed look that said, 'You better do something interesting soon'.

"A cat?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Somehow, he'd never imagined that Severus Snape would be much of an animal person, this being equivalent to taking care of something small and helpless. On the other hand, he'd never imagined that he would ever be having tea with Snape, until he suddenly was.

"I find that I can come to a certain understanding with felines. They stay out of my business and I stay out of theirs, and both sides are comfortable. Humans are in no way as reasonable."

"Hah!" Sirius stabbed with his finger in the air. "That's it. You're obviously a cat at heart. I'm a dog. It's karmic law that we don't get along." He finished this statement by grabbing the last cookie and devouring it.

On anyone else, the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth would have been interpreted as a smile, but this was Severus Snape, so of course it was nothing but a sneer. "It was, of course, inconceivable that I would want that cookie?"

"Of course you wanted it. But I took it. It's a man eat man world. Or man eat cookie, in this case."

"Oh, how witty. Really. You astound me. I am baffled, amazed, utterly flabbergasted, dumbfounded, founded dumb even…"

Sirius laughed out loud. "You _use _the word 'flabbergasted'? Only old ladies in fifties comedies use that word."

"Oh, and while we're on the subject of ladies, how are things going with Remus?" Severus retorted with absolutely no change of expression whatsoever.

Sirius choked on his tea, and coughed helplessly while Severus watched him with a sanguine look on his face. The kitten was watching him with the exact same expression. A small part of Sirius' mind wondered where Severus had gotten the cat from, while the rest was yelling bloody murder.

"Where the… I… why did… Why the _bloody_ hell did you have to…? Why did you…?" Sirius leaned his face in his hands. The cat gave him a crazed stare and fled to the floor. "Why was it so necessary to bring _him_ up?" he asked tiredly.

"Firstly, you called me an old lady. Secondly, the expression on your face is priceless. And thirdly, it's been four years. _Four years,_ Black, that you have managed to spend _sulking_. For someone who never tires of pointing out my own flaws in that department, you seem to be putting down considerable effort to become my equal."

Sirius sighed, feeling suddenly too tired to even get angry. "But I am doing what he wants me to do, aren't I? I'm keeping out of his life so that I won't screw it up for him. And I have to get over him _sometime_, right? Crap, I can't believe I just asked _you_ that. Just… forget I said anything." He grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up into his lap, starting to pet it rather fiercely.

Severus heaved a very, _very_ tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger. He'd heard Sirius say things like this, or at least variations of the general theme, over and over and over again during the awkward Truce Of…Tea. "Sirius, you're not doing this because he wants you to, you're doing this because you would literally shit bricks if you ever tried to face him again and you're just too chicken to handle the possibility of another refusal. To put it in fewer words, you're simply following your nature."

Sirius was jolted out of his brutal attentions toward the cat by Snape using his first name. That generally wasn't really, well, what they did. They called each other 'Snape' and 'Black' because they always had, and to do anything else would be the same as admitting that they didn't hate each other anymore, and while it was true that they _didn't_, it still wasn't anything they wanted to think about too closely. And as Severus proceeded to disembowel his – he had to admit it – lame excuses, he turned his face away and half-wished that he could resort to his old method of dealing with Severus hitting a really sore spot. Namely, punching him. As it was, he sighed and sank further into the sofa, as if hoping to get lost among the cushions like just another piece of spare change.

"What am I supposed to say?" he asked, and hated himself for sounding so… whiny. "I mean, no matter what I do he will know and we'll both have this big cloud of, 'I STILL LOVE YOU,' hanging over our heads."

Severus raised an eyebrow and shot Sirius the 'I'm about to be _terribly _clever' look. "But do you really? You haven't seen the man for four years, how can you possibly know that you love him? What you love is the idea in your head about who he is, and that person hasn't been around for a long, long time. The man you met when you fell out of the veil was someone you didn't know. A man with a job, a family, a whole life you knew nothing about, and believe it or not I do pity you for that. Remus is over you, Sirius, because you were dead for nine years. A lot happens in nine years. How about trying to get to know who the man you think you love actually is, and then reassess whether or not you are in fact interested in tearing his whole life to shreds so that the two of you can be together again."

Sirius sighed. "But I don't. Not really. I just wish things… wouldn't have happened like that. Or something." He gave Severus a sharp look. "And _thank you_, I know it's not terribly constructive, it's just…" He sighed and refilled his cup. How to explain? "I've lost two large chunks of my life. Say what you want about Azkaban, but it doesn't do much for character development. So that's twelve years down the drain. And then I'm dead for nine years. So even before the whole veil-thing, Remus was way ahead of me. But I had missed out on so much that who the fuck was I supposed to look to for… human things? Closeness and love and that stuff that, I suspect, even you occasionally need. And now I don't even know him. I know his bleeding _wife _better than I know him." He sighed, staring at his tea and wishing it to be more… alcoholic. "What it all comes down to, really, is that I'm still twenty years old and he's fifty. I'm the student pining for his teacher. I'm pathetic."

There was a flicker of 'Oh, God I'm going to have to get up close and personal' in the beady blackness of Severus' eyes, but then an almost (of course not completely, couldn't have that happening) friendly half-smirk quirked his thin lips. "Not that I'm disagreeing, Black, but if that is going to be your line of thinking then… well, I'm basically eleven, and I find it rather demeaning to pursue that particular strain of thought. My whole _life_ went down the drain, and I did nothing to pull it back up. That is why you really should take my advice on this issue. I might not know exactly what you've gone through, and to be honest I don't care to know either since the experience was undoubtedly excruciating, but I know a whole lot about wasting time. That is what you're doing. Wasting time that you could spend with Remus and the…um… family that his wife has decided to extend to just about anyone she likes. If you love the man or not is really irrelevant. He doesn't love you in that way, end of story. Now, there are two ways of dealing with this kind of thing. Either you shut the person you love out and try to forget, or you try to be friends. You've tried the first option and failed, so it's time for the other one. I am sick of having you whining on my sofa about this."

This was really quite a long speech, coming from Severus, and it had Sirius alternately blushing and looking away for the whole length of it. The man talking about his own life, his own pains, in that way was certainly embarrassing, but at the same time felt a bit… reassuring. He wasn't the only one spilling his guts here, at least. And as much as it pained him, he knew Severus was right. Per definition, of course, Severus Snape was always wrong as long as he held an opinion that was opposite to his, but this had suddenly turned on Sirius in a rather unpleasant way when he now found himself agreeing.

Damn it.

Oh, and he was going to let the sofa comment pass. Because if he didn't, he'd have to say something along the lines of, well then, I suppose I could just stop coming here. And Severus would say fine, and he would say _fine_ and then he'd lose the only person he could really talk to about these issues.

"So… You want me to… just go there? Hi, lovely weather, oh, incidentally, let's get to know each other so that I won't have to go around pining after you all the time and might actually get a life?"

"Something like that."

Sirius buried his face in his hands, and spilled half of his tea over his jeans. "Bugger. God, this is so stupid. On the other hand, I've agreed to a lot of stupider things. It's just that coming from James, they always seemed so reasonable. Oh, well. Wish me luck." He stood up, tea stain and all, and prepared to leave.

_What is it with this man and his mood swings?_ Severus thought tiredly, but decided to keep quiet since this at least was a swing for the better. Instead he opted for some sort of encouragement, but that wasn't exactly his forte so it took him a few moments to think of an appropriate thing to say. "Well… have fun storming the castle."

Sirius spent a last moment to send Severus a weird look – storming the _what?_ – before exiting with all speed, hell-bent on rushing to Remus' doorstep before he lost all courage.

* * *

**A/N: **Hokay, so this was random. But WE feel that it needs to be there, and we're the writers and this is no democracy. So there. Oh, and now:

LET THERE BE AWKWARDNESS! /cue scary music


	7. The shit hits the fan

**A/N:** Well, here goes. For the people who requested some more action, I hope this will do.

My poor girlfriend, who (if it should be forgotten by now) is writing this fic together with me, and who should be given credit for the truly brilliant parts, really despaired at the end of this chapter, and she deserves a round of applause for her perseverance_._

Oh, and here we go again, dropping hints. Can you find them?

**

* * *

**

Chapter six

**The shit hits the fan**

* * *

When Remus opened the door, Sirius was at least prepared. Prepared for the affection that was as instinctive as breathing by now, prepared for the memories that accompanied the sight of his friend and former lover's face. It wasn't exactly the memory of sights or sounds, but it was every emotion brought on by those memories, at once, beating through him every moment like a second pulse. And yes, he still loved that man. Dazedly he acknowledged that it was probably mostly because he'd never had a chance to stop. He'd never given himself that chance. But that didn't matter because that didn't do much to change the fact that he was here, now, and he was still in love with a married man.

And yet, now that he wasn't engulfed in self-pity and anger, he also felt something that in some ways went deeper than his love, and this was the feeling – the sudden insight – that he truly and deeply cared for this man, cared for him in every possible sense, not only the romantic. And while it was true that he wanted to kiss the man, to hold him, to be able to tell the world that Remus was _his_, it was all overtaken and left far behind by something that mattered so much more. What he wanted – what he _really_ wanted – was for Remus to be happy. With him or without him; it was irrelevant, as long as Remus would always be as happy and as peaceful as he obviously was now.

If that meant that he had to stay with Nymphadora… well, Sirius certainly wouldn't be happy about it, but he would be far happier than he would be if he ever spoiled Remus' chance at true happiness.

And this, he realised, was true love. Everything else… everything else was of no greater consequence than a spoiled child yelling for candy.

It was liberating, somehow, to know this, but the insight also hurt far worse than the previous anger. Being angry was _easy. _Being in love wasn't.

Remus was staring at him in absolute shock, but as seconds passed there was also pain slowly seeping into his eyes, and Sirius now knew for certain that Severus had been right. Sirius had _not_ been doing what Remus wanted him to. Remus had been bloody miserable. And yet again, it was Sirius' fault.

_Is this what it's going to always be like? Will I ever even dare try to win him back if I always make him hurt?_

But still, he knew that if he ever was given the smallest chance, he would try. Of course he would. But it would be Remus' choice to make, and he hoped with all of his soul that he would make the right decision, no matter who he chose.

Before Remus could say anything – at any rate, that looked like it could take quite some time – Sirius tried gather all the platonic affection he could muster and smiled at Remus, shoving all the shameful cravings and selfish longing into some dark and hopefully soon forgotten corner of his heart. Time to do this another way.

"Hello, Remus. I've been a right arse, haven't I?"

* * *

Remus tried in vain to find a word to adequately describe his feelings. Not really because he felt a need to describe them, after all they were his feelings and he knew perfectly well what they were with or without words, but because he needed to occupy his mind with something systematic and rational to not be overwhelmed by the torrent of emotion that assaulted him as he saw the raw need in his old lover's eyes.

"Sirius..."

And there the words ran out. But perhaps it was because that was _the_ word, the one he'd been trying to find. It had slipped out of him without passing through the filter of consciousness and now it shimmered in the air telling him all about how much he'd missed this man.

"Should I take that as a yes?" Sirius felt tears running down his cheeks but still he couldn't stop smiling.

"Eh... come in?"

There was no ease between them; Remus could feel the hollow space where their friendship and love once had made all communication effortless. The years had eroded it away, and now they were both sore and skinless, every touch hitting a nerve.

"Gladly. I'm freezing my balls off." Sirius knew that much of his unaffected air was... well, affected. But to say everything he was thinking, feeling, was impossible, and so it was easier to act as if this wasn't as difficult as it really was. As the warmth of the hall enveloped him and he closed the door behind him, he felt like someone from a sitcom who had just stepped into a Bergman movie. This situation should be emotional and complicated and full of deep and heartfelt pain, but he was so ridiculously happy to finally have back the man that represented everything he had been before he became this drifting wreck of a human that he couldn't be bothered. "Cosy," he said, grinning teasingly, hoping to make this easier for Remus, since the other man seemed to be on the verge of a nervous collapse. "I especially like the frog-shaped lamp."

Remus snorted with unintentional yet relieved laughter. Count on his wife to ease tension, even when she wasn't even present. "Dora wanted it, she talked me into buying it by saying it was for Gracie's room, and then she put it down here, telling the children that he's our enchanted prince watching our house until that special someone comes through the door and he can stop being a frog. So now he has to sit there, or Gracie will throw a fit."

Sirius' heart swelled. Remus could still laugh in his presence. Maybe he hadn't screwed everything up quite yet. "Hah! I love your wife, Remus. But you've always had good taste," he said, and hoped it wasn't a terribly wrong thing to say.

Remus cringed somewhat, not really happy with Sirius' choice of words but still glad that he had something nice to say about Dora. Not that he'd ever doubted Sirius' affection for his cousin, but it still felt good to see that he hadn't become too embittered to appreciate Nymphadora as a person, even if he perhaps wasn't ready yet to be truly content with the fact that she was Remus' wife. "Yes, I love her too."

All too late Remus realised how tactless he'd been. His eyes went wide in fright he awaited the sorrow and/or anger that would follow his clumsy remark.

Sirius _did _feel a stab of hurt, but it passed fast as he realised that among the rest of the revelations this encounter had brought on, there was the knowledge that even though he was sorry that Remus didn't love him anymore, he _wasn't_ sorry that he loved Dora. "I should damn well hope that you love her," he said, grinning at Remus' apprehension. "Anything else would be a bloody insult. Plus, if you didn't love her, I'd have to break every bone in your body for playing with the heart of my little cousin."

Remus had no idea how to react to this. He'd been braced and prepared for a temper tantrum, and the man standing before him was being all... grown up on him.

"Okay, I must assume that you've changed a lot over these past years, because that definitively wasn't the reaction I was expecting, and I can't remember the last time I couldn't predict your response to any given thing."

"Changed? Always so diplomatic, Moony. Try 'grown up'. Oh, and, spending four years with Severus firing sarcasms at you seems to do that." Too late Sirius realised that he had just referred to Snape by first name, _and_ that he was actually smiling rather fondly while saying it, and wanted to bang his head against some hard surface.

The smile on the other man's face ignited a weird little spark of jealousy in Remus, but he hoped it didn't show in his voice when he uttered his response. "Wait a minute, Severus? Severus _Snape_?"

Sirius made a face. "The one and the same. I don't know how it happened, and I'm certainly not taking responsibility, but we've sort of..." Sirius trailed off, loath to own up to such disgrace, but there had to be a time to swallow all pride and admit the truth. "In some strange way, I think we've become friends. Actually, it was because he got tired of my whining that I was sent me here with orders to make up with you." He grinned rather sheepishly. "To tell the truth, all of my angsting must've been wearing holes in his patience for quite a while. I suspect I've been desperately boring company from time to time." It struck him that this was very true, and wondered how come Severus hadn't just given up on him.

Remus shook his head, not quite prepared to accept this paradigm shift that had obviously occurred. He suspected that he was experiencing a tiny sliver of the shock and disbelief that Sirius had gone through when that god awful veil had so ruthlessly thrown him back into the world. "Dear me, that is quite a surprise. Dora's been trying to tell me that Snape has changed, though I could see little evidence of it whenever she'd drag him over here for dinner. Obviously I wasn't looking hard enough."

Now Sirius looked surprised too. "He came here? He never told me. But obviously, he never told you about me either." He smiled wryly. "How very alike him. Letting everyone figure things out on their own, because how could it _possibly_ be his business?" He shook his head and thought things over. "And yes," he admitted reluctantly, "he has changed. I suppose that he's lost the initiative to spend his days being spiteful and bitter when the war ended. He's still possibly the most annoying man in history, but… but it's nice to talk to someone who was… there, from the beginning. And he listens. And I suppose there are some other things which I needed to talk about which he… understands." He shifted uncomfortably, but he'd be damned if he'd let this become awkward when they had both done so well up till now. "So, can I give you a hug, or am I completely out of line then?"

Remus smiled a genuinely warm smile and opted for action rather than words, pulling Sirius into a tight embrace. Sirius hugged back, clutching the other man rather desperately for a few seconds, before relaxing and leaning his cheek against the other man's head. He hoped that Remus would take it for what it was; relief at finally being able to come close to him, to regain a part of what he had lost, and not… not anything that would, right now, harm the both of them.

"I've missed you, Moony."

"Missed you too, Padfoot."

And at that moment, Dora found it prudent to find out who the hell her husband was having such a lengthy conversation with (in the bleeding hallway for crying out loud!). She wasn't really prepared to find him wrapped around his ex-boyfriend, and she couldn't in all honesty say she was very happy about it.

Sirius heard a faint noise, and looked up right into the wide eyes of Remus' wife. She stared at him either in surprise or horror, and he flew away from the other man as if someone had just wired a thousand volt into Remus.

"Tonks! I… This… I'm sorry, I… This looks rather bad."

Dora couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Yeah, it sure does now! Where's _my_ hug?" And then she decided not to wait for it and instead flung her arms around Sirius like the kid sister he'd always treated her as. She'd been jealous, and felt a right tit for it. The Code of Dora clearly stated that whenever you acted like a twat you had to find someway to counteract your initial impulse. In this case, hugging seemed appropriate.

Sirius stiffened for a moment, and then he too laughed, hugging her back rather roughly. "Hello there, cousin. Is it okay if I gatecrash you for dinner?"

Dora nodded vigorously. "Sure, I always make sure Remus cooks for five, just in case."

"I hardly think it's just in case _I_ show up," Sirius said sceptically, but in the light of Dora's general personality he had to add a, "right?"

"Just in case _someone _shows up. You just never know." Dora shrugged. "I'm an Auror, we like to be prepared."

"_Constant vigilance?_ I hardly think he's referring to cooking."

Dora flinched and actually seemed to become physically smaller, the radiant pink of her hair fading somewhat. "I imagine that wasn't what he meant, no."

Sirius looked confused. "Meant?" And as she looked almost tearful, his eyes widened. "No, he cannot be… I'm so sorry. Harry isn't that keen on talking about the war, and I just assumed that he'd… retired. I had no idea…"

Dora shook herself, slightly reminiscent of a dog shaking rain out of its fur, and sort of _popped_ back into shape. "Don't worry about it, can we just have dinner now? I've cried enough over the war to last me a lifetime, and this is a happy occasion." She turned towards the stairs and hollered like a bull horn. "Teddy! Gracie! Dinner!"

The boy Sirius remembered from the hospital appeared in one of the doors on the upstairs landing. His hair was now the exact shade as Remus', and his face also seemed to have grown more similar, although that could've been caused by natural development. As his eyes fell on Sirius they narrowed dramatically and the small mouth set in a grim line. He stomped down the stairs and went straight to Dora, his hair changing to pink as he grabbed her hand in a vice grip, glaring at Sirius.

"What is _he _doing here, _mum_?"

Dora tried her best to keep the 'oh shit' out of her features as she crouched down so that she was on the same level as her son. "He's come to visit, pup. He's having dinner with us and both dad and me are very happy to see him."

Teddy snorted audibly and threw Sirius one more filthy look, before suddenly looking back to Dora with the sweetest smile possible on his face. "Whatever you say, mother," he said, kissing her on the cheek. And, just to drive the point a little further, it appeared, said, "I love you," with a almost unnoticeable emphasise on 'you', before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I see I've made myself very popular," Sirius said ruefully. "Awfully sorry about that."

Dora waved a hand dismissively. "He'll come around… I hope. Now what's taking Grace so long?" She went a couple of steps up the stair. "Gracie! Where's my little monster?"

There was a distant crash and then the sound of running feet, and a strawberry blonde, wiry four-year-old appeared helter-skelter, probably from her room, and thundered down the stairs seemingly with absolute contempt of death.

Dora backed back down from the stair as it was obvious that her daughter was going to pull another one of her death-defying stunts. No sooner had she planted her feet firmly on the floor than the girl shot herself like a canon-ball from a few steps up to fly into her mother's terrified grip. The force of impact was almost, but not quite, enough to knock her off her feet. Remus, who had made a frantic motion toward the stairs as soon as he, too, figured out what his daughter was about to do, now steadied his wife and gave Grace a stern look that would've been a lot more intimidating if the hands holding Dora hadn't been shaking so badly. "Grace! How many time do I have to tell you not to do that?"

Gracie smiled a little sunshine smile while her eyes flickered erratically about the room. "Always one more time!" She squirmed to be let down, and Dora managed to unclamp her arms at the second attempt.

"Hello, Grace," Sirius said, a little stunned but somewhat amused to see Remus so… fatherly. "I'm going to sound a million years old now, but even if you don't remember me, the last time I saw you, you were small enough to use as a doorstopper." Remus sent him an appalled look. Grace locked eyes with Sirius for about three seconds before the yellowish orbs started to dart around all over the rest of his appearance.

"Who's you?"

Ignoring Remus' muttered '_are_', Sirius smiled. "I'm an old friend of your father's."

"Hey!"

"_And_ your mother, sorry Tonks. An old friend of your mother's and an _older_ friend of your father's, then."

"Okay," the girl said and ran up to the strange man to hug his knees.

Sirius ruffled her hair and smiled at Remus and Dora. "Well, at least this one seems to be all for unconditional love. How's about dinner?"

* * *

"I went there."

Severus looked up from the newspaper he was pretending to care about. "What do you want, a round of applause?"

Sirius sighed a bit irritably and sat down. "Well, I was actually hoping for a _bit_ of appreciation."

"I'm cheering on the inside. Plus, I left the door open and ignored the fact that I have work in the morning so you could amuse yourself by making a dramatic entry. I think that is quite sufficient remuneration for your efforts."

Sirius looked a bit sheepish. "It _is_ rather late, isn't it? I'm sorry. I _was_ wondering why the door was open, considering your general paranoia."

Severus opened his mouth to answer, and then realised that whatever words would tumble out of his mouth could be naught but proofs of how much he'd gradually begun to care about Black, and they just didn't do that kind of thing. In fact he'd already overstepped a few boundaries. You did not sit up in the middle of the night waiting for someone you barely tolerated.

He closed his mouth and let a very inappropriate amount of time pass. What made matters worse was that when trying to fix his gaze on something it ended up being locked in the grey cages that was Sirius' eyes. It must look so wrong to Black, because things were of course completely different from what they might seem like to an outside observer, but the observer wouldn't know that, would he? And why was he even thinking this? And shouldn't he be saying something about now?

"Paranoia or no, I'm awake and you're here. Tea?"

And he simply couldn't believe he'd said that.

"What? Oh, yes please." What had that been about then? That broody silence and intense glaring? Well, it was always something, so he supposed he could just let it drop. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. He was happy to see me and so was Dora, once we'd gotten past the initial embarrassment of her finding me hugging Remus. And I was invited to dinner and treated like an old, much beloved friend." He sighed. "It's a pity I'm still madly in love with that bastard."

Severus sighed. "Yes. A pity." He couldn't blame Black, and he honestly didn't, but the sheer _annoyance _that suddenly flooded his systems made it impossible to squeeze out anything but those impassive, nondescript syllables.

Severus sounded odd. Maybe he thought Sirius ought to have gotten over Remus by now? He was right, of course, but _he_ really didn't have any right to complain, now did he? On the other hand Sirius was too tired, both mentally and physically, to be angry, or even annoyed. "I just hope that by spending more time with him…" He fell silent, not knowing what it was that he wanted to say. Sure, the most simplistic, selfish reason was that he wanted Remus to fall in love with him again, but somehow it just didn't seem like such a good thing to say, because it was mean and egoistic and it would just make Severus more annoyed, if that was indeed what he was. The second reason sounded better; he half hoped that he'd get over Remus and finally be able to get on with his own life. But since that wasn't his only motive it would feel like lying if he claimed that it was. "…it'll all work out, somehow," he finished, rather lamely, averting his eyes and hoping he didn't look too guilty.

"In all probability it will," Severus said more kindly and got out of the couch to wander off to the kitchen. Making tea seemed like just the refuge he needed to clear his head.

Sirius followed him, unaware that this was probably not the wisest move if he wanted Severus to stop being annoyed. All _he_ knew that right now he needed someone around that didn't make him want to scream from the sheer tension that acting like a normal person around them led to.

"Yeah, well, at least it can hardly get worse. Here, let me get that." Sirius took the milk bottle from Severus' unresisting left hand, allowing the other man to turn the faucet and fill the teapot in his right hand. "Oh, and Teddy hates my guts."

"Why shouldn't he?" Severus replied as he put he kettle on the stove. "You barged in just after his baby sister had been born and started hollering about how you wanted to take his father away from him."

Sirius picked two cans of tea out of one of the kitchen cabinet. "Earl grey or Ceylon? And of course he hates me. I just… Obviously, I need to do something about it. It kills them. I mean, no parent want their child to be as unhappy as he was throughout the whole dinner. And well, he has his father's glare, and it is a fearsome thing to behold."

"Ceylon." Severus produced a pair of cups from another cabinet and put them on a counter. "Just like you to be intimidated by an eleven year old. You'll figure it out, or you will actually take his father from him in which case his hatred is completely justified."

Sirius poured the tea into a strainer and then scrambled through another cabinet after the honey, adding a ridiculous amount to his own cup along with a splash of milk. There was nothing in Severus' cup. He wanted his tea black. Naturally. "I know. I feel like the worst kind of arse for even considering it, but there it is. Why don't the poets ever mention how selfish love makes you?"

Severus gave Sirius' cup a disdainful look. He'd never gotten used to the man's sissy ways though they'd been having heaven knew how many cups of tea together over the years. "Because poets are pretentious pricks to whom a completely self-centred world view is not only natural, but admirable."

Sirius was peering into the cabinet. "I take it you're no great fan of poetry?"

"I never said that."

"But… Oh, I see. You're a fan of poetry, not of the poets."

"Something like that."

"_You _are a pretentious prick. Let's go wild. Let's have biscuits, shall we." He threw Severus a look over his shoulder. The other man did not look impressed.

"Oh, whoop-di-do."

"Oh, shut up. Why are there chocolate biscuits here? You hate chocolate."

_Because you like them._ "I have no idea. You must have left them here."

"I did? Oh, well." Sirius shrugged and popped a biscuit into his mouth. He also extracted the salt biscuits that Severus liked and got the gorgonzola out of the fridge, following Severus back into the living room. He glanced over at the clock over the mantelpiece and realised with a start that it was half past twelve. "Eh… didn't you say that you've got work tomorrow?"

"I have excellent stamina, and I'm not going to waste a cup of perfectly good tea just because it's late."

Sirius smiled, he couldn't help it. "I'm not complaining."

* * *

After a few more visits to Remus' family, Sirius resolved that he had to do something about the situation with Teddy. It was, of course, not strange that the boy detested him; after all, his only memory of Sirius was of a man who had shouted a lot and who was apparently trying to steal his father away from him and his mother. No wonder he'd made himself look like Dora in Sirius' presence; it was his way of taking sides. Showing his colours, as it were.

So three days after that Teddy had left for Hogwarts, Sirius followed him there, hoping to catch the boy on his own so that they could have a little chat. He had been somewhat appalled to find out that Remus' son had ended up in Slytherin, but from what he'd seen the boy was an excellent actor and would fit right in. Besides... He remembered how erratic he'd been when he was eleven; loud, untamed and aggressive, always the focus of everyone's attention... and Regulus had ended up in the shadows because he was much calmer, much more sensitive, much, _much_ less of a pest... So Regulus had learnt of other ways of dragging attention to himself, learnt how to pander to people's wants and needs in a way that, in the end, left Sirius' rowdiness way behind. Maybe it was the same for Teddy, living together with Grace? Sirius adored that little menace, you couldn't help doing so, but she must be rather hellish to have as a sibling. Because everyone would always be watching her, if only just to make sure that she wasn't going to start scaling the walls the moment you looked away. So in a way, he understood Teddy's choice, even if he still quietly lamented it. After all, it was rather sensible. And right then, Sirius had a feeling that sensibility was the thing that might save him from the wrath of Teddy Lupin.

* * *

He was lucky, and found Teddy alone in a relatively remote corner of the Slytherin common room. As he approached Teddy looked up and narrowed his eyes in obvious dislike, and after a few moments during which the boy seemed to think deeply, his hair turned into a violent mix of green and silver. His eyes turned green too. Obviously, he had guessed that Sirius wasn't too fond of Slytherins. Except for the fact that his current – _arghh! _– best friend was one. Oookay…

"What do _you_ want?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "Well… _I _wanted to come and see you."

"What makes you think that I want to see you?" The boy demonstratively looked down at his book, lifting it so that he was almost hiding his face. But Sirius could see his eyes watching him from over the edge.

"Actually, I know for a fact that you _don't _want to see me. But this is where we get in trouble, 'cause your parents do."

Teddy lowered the book, the better to glare at the hateful man. "Well, I don't want you to see _them_ either."

"Too bad, I'm going to do it anyway." Sirius crouched. "Teddy, your parents _like _me, and yes," he added hastily when he got a sceptical look thrown into his face like a pie in a Marx brother's movie, "even your mother. And I care very much about them. It's making them very sad that the two of us aren't getting along, and I just came here to ask you to at least give it a try. Or, if that's too big a stretch, to act like you're trying in front of your parents like a true Slytherin."

Teddy bit his lower lip, confused and therefore, after some consideration, angry. "You're in love with dad," he spat, like an accusation.

_Oh, crap. What do I say? _"No need to worry, your father is not in love with me."

"I know _that_."

"Then, as I said, no need to worry." Sirius got back on his feet. "Look, Teddy, I can tell that you're a smart young man, so lying to you obviously wouldn't work. Yes, I'm in love with your dad and if he decided that he wanted to be with me then I would not say no. But you see, your dad _don't_ want to be with me, and as far as I can tell he never will. What your daddy wants is to be my friend, and he _really_ wants that. And you know, grown-ups have this irritating habit to do as they please whatever their kids may think about things if the grown-ups think they're right, and in this case _both_ your parents think that I should be their friend and that you'll get over it. Which is wrong because I can see that you are very capable of holding a grudge forever. I know that because _I_ can hold a grudge forever, and I also know how not nice that is to everyone else. So, let's be smart about this. Truce?"

Teddy sighed, annoyed. It wasn't really fair of the dolt to actually have a point. But there it was. Unfortunately, it seemed, his father had a lousy taste in friends. "Very well, then. I _won't_ like you, you know. But I suppose I can learn to tolerate you as long as you don't do anything that will upset my mother." With the full solemnity of a child knowing that he's doing something that's almost ceremonious, he extended a hand. "Agreed?"

Sirius took the hand in his own with equal severity. "Agreed," he said as they shook on it.

* * *

Sirius had left the Slytherin common room with a small sigh of relief – all that green and silver had reminded him strongly of Grimmauld Place 12 – and was climbing the stairs to the ground floor when something made him stop. Someone was laughing. And it wasn't really the voice but the _way_ the person laughed that seemed, somehow, familiar. He turned around and saw a student with a Head Boy badge and a middle-aged man in teacher's robes. It appeared that it was the professor he'd heard laughing, which was strange, because he was sure he'd never seen the man before.

The professor stood facing the student so that Sirius could see his left side and his face in profile, and nothing about him rang a bell. Their voices drifted up the stairwell to him and without really thinking about what he was doing, he stopped to listen.

"I have a feeling they do it on purpose, though," the Head Boy was saying. "I've heard some of them blaming other students for it even when it is obvious that they only have themselves to blame. And usually it is when they're working together with Slytherins."

"You astound me," the professor replied dryly. "Well, they get nothing for it, surely? I mean, even the most daft of teachers…"

"No, of course not. But it adds to Madame Pomfrey's workload and she isn't exactly young anymore, and it interrupts classes and causes disorganisation. So she asked me to ask you to talk to them…?"

The professor's eyebrows shot up, and once more Sirius got a feeling that he'd met this man somewhere. "Surely the Gryffindor Head of House would be better?"

"Well, he's already tried, see. But they seem convinced that they're doing the right thing. So now they want you to put the fear of the Slytherins into the little brats."

Once more the professor laughed, and Sirius found himself getting… annoyed? Angry? "Indeed? Am I that terrifying?"

"Monstrous," said the Head Boy with an absolutely straight face. "Who wouldn't be afraid of Professor Darling?"

_Darling? I don't know any Darling, do I?_ Sirius frowned. But the man called Darling was smiling widely, and he gestured at himself with an ironical little wave.(_Where have I seen that before?_) "Yes, I am truly imposing. Fear me."

"Trying to, sir. And I have a feeling you will be a lot more frightening in about three minutes."

"Indeed? Why?"

"Well, sir, in three minutes your next class begins, and if I am the one to detain you enough to make you late then I will certainly have a reason to be very frightened indeed."

"Oh, sugar!" _Sugar? Wait a minute…_ "You're right. Well, I'm glad you told me, Claude, and if you think it would help then I will surely talk to them." He turned to leave, and just as Sirius had reached the conclusion that he'd only ever known one man who actually used 'Sugar' instead of an actual profanity, he looked down and saw… or rather, didn't see a hand. The man had no right hand. And suddenly, it all made a lot of sense…

"Peter Pettigrew!"

Though a frightened voice babbled hysterically in the back of his mind

(_whatthehellareyoudoingyouhavenoideawhothisguyisohmygodyou'regoingbacktorpisonpleasestop)_

he had absolutely no control of his actions as he lunged for the stranger he was convinced was his own personal arch enemy. Sure, Voldemort had been the grand Nemesis, but he was _everyone's _Nemesis. This moment however, was for Sirius alone to savour. As he slammed the man against the wall, fumbling for his wand as he held him there, his rage-flooded mind registered that this person was not reacting like he was supposed to. The brown eyes of the much shorter man didn't flicker, but met his steadily, and even as Sirius pressed his wand to his throat he experienced a horrible, sinking sensation as he realised that he was wrong, that this wasn't Peter at all and that he looked a right arse standing there-

"I was doing so well right up until 'Sugar', wasn't I?" said the other man, sounding defeated.

The killing curse was a the tip of Sirius' tongue, and hung there whispering of sweet, sweet revenge, but he babbling voice had turned up the volume and was now a deafening roar.

_(DOES THE WORD AZKABAN MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!?)_

"You'll do even better being dead!" he snarled, and cursed himself for being so abysmally lame. The truth was that he was stalling, and a flicker in Peter's eyes told him that the bane of his life knew it too. And that flicker sparked the flame of a solution in his brain. Make the bastard fight. Make it so that he didn't have to choose between letting the rat live or snapping it's neck. Make it about fighting the good fight once more. He let go of Peter and backed a few steppes back. "Come on, let's see if we can relive some old memories, shall we? Yeah, pull your wand and show the school the one talent you actually have!"

Richard – whatever Sirius might think he wasn't Peter, not anymore – was frightened. Actually, arse-deep in terror was closer to the truth. But when he pulled his wand it was only to throw it as far as he could, which wasn't really very far, but it was far enough to make the point. "If you want to kill me, Sirius, then just do it. But I'm not going to fight you." The most base part of his mind, the one dealing with self-perseverance, was screaming at him in horror. How could he just have thrown away his only way of protecting himself? He'd beaten Sirius before, he could do it again! What was he doing? But Richard had spent so much of his life listening to that voice and he was sick and tired of it. It never did him any good before, so why the hell was he supposed to listen to it now? "I'm not going to fight," he repeated. "Especially not _you_."

Sirius was thrown by the man's response, but only for a moment. He was sick of these games and for every passing moment the man before him looked less and less like the mild mannered professor he'd first seen and more and more like the oh, so hated childhood friend that had laughed at him as he revealed himself to be much more, and less, than any of his companions had ever given him credit for.

"Fine!" And he drew the final breath that would blow away all his recent happiness just so he could finally get even, whatever that meant.

"I would appreciate it, Sirius, if you did not try to kill off my staff." Sirius couldn't help it, but for a moment he looked away, and a moment was all it took for Peter to get unfreeze and quickly back away, so that he came to stand next to Minerva McGonagall as she advanced on them with the Head Boy Claude in tow – it appeared that he had been the one to fetch her.

Sirius was frantic. When he'd finally stepped over the edge a bunch of ignorant fools had to go and yank him back! "You don't understand, that man is not who you think. That's Peter Pettigrew!"

"You're wrong," she said calmly. "He is, in fact, Richard Darling, _formerly_ known as Peter Pettigrew and released from Azkaban in accordance with the Ministry program for Death Eater rehabilitation. He is, moreover, a very talented History of Magic professor, and as long as he does that job well and actually manages to spark some interest from the students I honestly wouldn't care if he was the Dark Lord himself."

"He's the scum of the earth, and you know it! I can't believe what I'm hearing! What has he done, imperiused the lot of you? You can't honestly stand here being perfectly fine with having the man responsible for so many deaths _in this very school_ working here as a _teacher_!"

_He has a point,_ Richard thought, but didn't say it out loud.

Minerva sighed. "Fine with it? I wouldn't say that I am. But I believe that Harry is right to think that our system of penalties needs some serious rearranging and when he suggested the program I was the first one to back him up." Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt, and she gave him the Teacher Look, which was a very nasty way of making him shut up, but at least it worked. "And while I hired this man as Richard Darling, because he seemed to me to be a kind, sympathetic man who appeared to care a lot about the subject he wanted to teach, it was _his_ decision to tell the staff who he had been and leave it up to me to decide whether I still wanted him here. I didn't. But even more, I wanted the inhumanities of Azkaban to be put to an end, and if that meant I had to swallow the bitter pill of having someone I sincerely dislike on my own staff, then so be it."

"Dislike? _Dislike?" _No look in the world could shut Sirius up now. "You talk about him as if he'd… I don't know, run over your cat! This is Peter Pettigrew! You know what he's capable of, and you let him take care of people's _children? _How the hell can you call yourself headmistress of this school? This is a disgrace! You think he's changed? Like we thought he was our friend? He hasn't changed worth _shit_ and to think so is to risk the lives of innocents, and whatever you say from the back of that moral high horse, no principles in the world are worth that!"

Her mouth turned into a thin, white line and she became rather a lot more animated from sheer anger. "I do call myself headmistress of this school, Mr Black, and I would certainly never do anything that could in any way be harmful to the children that _I_ carry the responsibility for. But although I don't claim to know Richard, what I do know about his crimes is that he always did what he did because it benefited him best, not because of any kind of conviction or sadistic urge. And I cannot believe that it would benefit him in any way to hurt his students, since the moment he so much as runs over a cat, he will be back in Azkaban. I've been told that is not a very nice place."

"Well, that's all very academic of you, McGonagall. But hey, if you want him you're welcome to him. Now, though I don't have any kids of my own to pull out of this place I still have someone whom I care very deeply about who might not appreciate that his son is being taught by the man who shattered his life, so I'll just go inform him that the wizard community has kindly stabbed him in the back again. Good day." And off Sirius stormed without looking back even once.

Richard sighed. He hadn't been prepared for Sirius to appear, and he'd failed miserably at the charade that had successfully kept Remus so clueless over this summer. And now he'd pulled down this over McGonagall's head, as if being Headmistress after Dumbledore wasn't hard enough as it was.

Oh, well. It had been a nice try. "I'll go pack my things, shall I?" he said.

"You most certainly will not. I did not just stand here practically ruining my career to have you scurrying off like a coward. You made the decision to come forward and I made the decision to back you up, whatever consequences there may we'll both deal with them. Now get out of my sight," Minerva snapped before scanning the still deserted corridor discovering only a _very _frightened Claude. "You," she pointed at the floor in front of her, "here."

"Yes ma'am… I mean, professor." Claude stepped a little closer, but still kept a healthy distance between them.

"Young man, you are not to speak of what you just heard. I would prefer it if I did not have to alter your memory since it is in no way my area of expertise and I may accidentally hurt you, so I will simply trust in your discretion." She fixated the boy with a glare that told him all he needed to know about what would happen if it turned out that he could not be trusted. "I would also like for you to find out if any other students overheard this little… conversation. The rumours should start flying pretty soon so if no word is circulating by supper I think it is safe to conclude that no one else knows, and believe me I will know if any rumours have been started by you. So, to conclude, keep your mouth shut and your ears open. _Do I make myself clear?_"

Claude nodded, looking thoughtful. Naturally, he didn't want to have his memory altered, and he could hear the underlying threat as clearly as if she'd spoken it out loud. Besides, he still didn't know what to think about this, and until he did, he'd rather keep it to himself anyway. People in general weren't very clever when it came to rumours, and tended to always think the worst simply because it was more exiting that way. And besides… well, he _liked_ professor Darling. It was very hard to believe that he'd… But apparently he had. Anyway, this wasn't the time to make the headmistress doubt that he could keep silent. This was definitely a good time to present the face of Obedience. So he nodded solemnly and met her steely gaze.

"Crystal, professor. Glass. A lot of other clear substances, too, which have for the moment slipped my mind."

And it appeared she believed him, at least for the moment. Claude respectfully bowed to her and went away to think.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh joy, happy happy joy! The drama! What will Remus say?! /cue dramatic music


	8. It can't be

**A/N: **Okay, so we know this is a short chapter, but there was so much ANGST... we just couldn't take it for too long. So, sadness galore, some more hints (but we won't say at what because we expect of our readers to catch on quite soon... really...), and an... uhm, what shall we call it... breakup scene?

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**It can't be**

* * *

It is horribly rude to Apparate into someone else's house without their knowing or permission, but the state of Sirius' mind didn't allow for any other thoughts or considerations that didn't circulate around the fact that the man responsible for wrecking his and Remus' life had been allowed to once more crawl the earth. Remus needed to know, and he needed to know _now._ So as soon as he got all of his body off Hogwarts ground he turned on the spot, appearing in Remus' study with a crack and a small yelp as he apparently had Splinched away a nail.

Remus swivelled around in his chair and got out of it so fast it toppled over, pulling his wand out with a curse half out of his mouth before he realised who it was.

"Sirius! What hell do you think you're doing? I could have _killed _you!"

Sirius stared blankly at Remus for some moments, realisation of how close he'd actually been to die slowly dawning. But the restless, boiling anger came surging back, even stronger now, for he'd seen the deep fear in Remus' eyes when he spun around.

_Even now… Even now, when he's finally got the life he always wanted, he has to be afraid, every day, of it all being taken away from him. Because it already happened to him once, and he can't allow himself to forget. And whose fault is that?_

"Remus… I'm sorry, I…" He slumped into Dora's chair, noticing vaguely that his hands were shaking as he leaned his head on them. "I don't even know where to begin."

Remus went up to Sirius, realising that his friend must have had a damn good reason to show up like this, and that the man looked absolutely shattered. "Just… take a few breaths, calm down and don't worry about how to begin, just do it," he said putting a hand on the other man's shoulder.

Sirius did as he was told, as he'd always done when it was Remus who did the telling. And though his heart was still beating like he'd just run a mile, at least the trembling gradually subsided. "I… Do you know of the Death Eater rehabilitation program? Well, of course you know, Harry was the one that made it happen, but… Did you know that they considered…" He had to swallow, gnashing his teeth together for a moment before he could manage to spit out the hateful name, "…Peter for the program?"

Remus' lips curled in disgust. "Yes, I heard about it. Dora came home quite upset one day and when I asked her why she told me."

Sirius nodded, yes, of course she would've told him. "Well, I… I just met him. I mean, he didn't look like Peter at all, they had done something to him, to his face…" He trailed away, recalling the strangeness of Peter's familiar mimicry applied to that completely unfamiliar face. "But it was him. Once I realised, he didn't even bother to hide it."

Remus' mind blanked out and he sat down, completely forgetting that his chair wasn't there anymore. It probably hurt when his ass hit the floor full throttle, but he didn't notice. "You didn't kill him, did you?" he said with an avid, distant look on his face and a weird, wheezy voice a lot higher than his usual baritone.

"I wanted to," Sirius said darkly. "But McGonagall stopped me."

Remus held up a hand, as if to stop the flood of improbable emotion. "Wait… wait a minute, McGonagall? What was she doing there? Where were you?"

And here came the difficult part. "He's at Hogwarts, Remus. He's a _teacher._ He's… Your son… He's _teaching_ your _son_."

"What!?" Remus roared, getting to his feet in a flurry of movement faster than any man should be able to and then he was tearing Sirius out of his seat, clutching the man's cardigan by the collar and yelling with his mouth about an inch from Sirius' face and his flashing eyes fixated on his friend's eyes. "Who?"

Sirius tried to shrink back, which was damn hard considering Remus' death grip on him, and for a moment his mind was blank. Remus very seldom got angry, at least in this way. This was the kind of anger when you could swear that you could see the haunting shadow of a beast in his eyes, and it was rather unsettling. But then his brain kicked into gear again, scrambling for that new name that was supposed to cover up all of Peter's sins. "They called him Richard Darling. Said he was the History of Magic teacher."

Remus abruptly let go of Sirius and staggered a few steps back, the anger lashing this way and that within him with no anchor to weigh it down; Sirius' words had cut he warp. "No… please no…"

Sirius slumped back into the chair, staring at Remus in bewilderment. He didn't understand. What was wrong? Except for the obvious, that was. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this. "Remus? What do you mean?"

"Richard Darling… He's… He's Nymphadora's best friend. He's been here for dinner a few times and she visits him almost every day. He can't be Peter… It would destroy her." Remus felt an ache in the pit of his stomach, and surprisingly enough it really was Dora he was grieving for. His own anger and pain over what had happened all those years ago was so much a part of him now that it could be set aside for this new fact, that his beloved wife was about to find out that the one person in the whole world she apparently felt she could be completely herself with was Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to _do_, though. How _dare_ that little rat even talk to Remus' wife, let alone nestle his way into her life, into their very_ home_? "I'm so sorry, Remus," he said, his voice sounding thin and weak. "I wish I could say that it isn't true, but… The moment I heard him talk, saw him… And he didn't deny it, nor did McGonagall. I'm so very, very sorry."

"I… I have to tell her. I'm sorry Sirius but I have to go tell her right now," Remus said, his voice still rife with confusion. Then he left the room without so much as a backward glance.

* * *

Sirius had enough presence of mind to know that to Apparate into Severus' home would with all probability render him rather suddenly dead, so instead he focused on getting himself to the other man's doorstep. Of course, since Dora was obviously still at work, so might Severus, but the other man often worked from his home. And even if that wasn't the case, Severus had recently taken to leaving a key where only Sirius knew where to find it – and probably protected by a lot of nasty curses too – so Sirius could wait in the living room until he got there.

Stepping inside, however, he immediately noticed that the lights were on in the kitchen, and only moments later Severus appeared in the doorway to his study, looking slightly annoyed. It took Sirius only five minutes to get himself into the living room sofa, gulp down a cup of scalding tea and blurt out the whole story in a rather less than coherent jumble.

Severus response was to look completely deadpan while the little well oiled wheels under his skull kicked into frantic motion and turned, turned and turned trying to find a solution to the problem at hand. He came up with nothing.

"This is not going to end well."

Sirius surreptitiously turned the last dregs of tea in his cup into sherry and downed it in one swallow. "No, it isn't. I just… feel so sorry for Dora. I know how that _bastard_ can get under your skin. You think he's your friend and you really trust him and then…" He sighed, lifting Jean Miguel the cat into the sofa, petting him with hands that were once again shaking. _And _then_ you're in Azkaban, going madder by the minute. And I almost got myself back there today. No, correction, HE almost got me back there today. _For a moment the world seemed to blacken before his eyes and he blinked, feeling ill.

Severus got out of his preferred armchair to sit beside Sirius, making a movement as if to touch him and then stopping himself. Not even now could that wall between them be breached. He was as close as he was allowed.

"If I could make this easier for you I would, and I am far from convinced that McGonagall is doing the right thing. Still, I am as firmly convinced as she is that this _program_ is the right thing to do, flawed as it may be. Bad things sometimes comes out of good ones. It's a fact of life. Besides, Dumbledore too hired an old Death eater, you know."

Sirius blinked, confused at first, and then realisation hit like the proverbial anvil. "But," he spluttered, "you're not… He's… You're far better than that asshole!" Vaguely he noted that he was a lot more upset than what the situation strictly justified. He glared at Severus. "I'm not going to let you compare yourself to that son of… son of my mother. That came out wrong."

Severus sighed, but a smile was tugging at the ends of his mouth despite the (hah) severity of the situation. "Thank you, Sirius. However, I beg to differ. I'm not much better than Pettigrew at all, not by a long shot. Perhaps one day you'll be ready to know why. Not today though. You're upset enough as it is and will have a lot to deal with once Remus is finished telling Nymphadora. He'll probably need your support."

Sirius wanted to argue, but somehow the way Severus looked at him made him close his mouth again. _Maybe,_ a small treacherous voice whispered in his mind, _there _are_ some things that you aren't ready to know just yet. Maybe this is not a subject you want to pursue._

"Well, I don't agree with you on the first point, but you're right about Remus. And I hope I can be of _some_ kind of support for Nymphadora as well." He sighed. "He must be telling her right now. I can't even imagine how she will react."

* * *

Nymphadora burst out laughing.

"Yeah, right, good one! Oh, and let me guess, our daughter is the dark lord reincarnated?"

Remus felt a desperate urge to cry. Of all the reactions he had expected – and he'd probably gone over a hundred of them in his head on the way to the Ministry – this was quite possibly the worst one.

"Dora… Would I really joke about this?"

Dora's face slowly fell, and sorrow deeper than anything that had visited it since the war crept into her eyes with feline stealth. "No, I suppose you wouldn't."

Remus ached for her, ached for her so deeply that he almost wished that he hadn't said anything, that he… but no. This was far too important. And no matter how much she cared for him, everything else aside, he couldn't imagine that Dora would want a best friend that lied to her. Because a friend who deceives you is no friend at all. Not really.

"I'm sorry, love. Believe me, I wish that things were different. But he is what he is and you need to know it."

She wanted to cry, wanted so desperately to wail like a child with a scrubbed knee and wave angry fists at the sky as if to smack whatever gods had visited this horror upon her. But her eyes were dry and someone had tied her vocal cords up in a complex knot impossible to untie. All she could do was stare at Remus in a screaming silence that filled the air between them with all the 'why's that streamed from her desert eyes.

It was unbearable, seeing her like this, and he wondered if it was to shield himself from the heartbreaking image of his wife that he stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, or if it was because he was afraid that she'd drift away on some unknown, dark sea if he didn't hold onto her for dear life. Or if it simply was because every single word of comfort died on their way to his mouth, as he realised that they wouldn't be enough.

Dora felt cold, and not even the warmth of her husband's embrace could release her tears.

* * *

Richard wandered restlessly about his quarters, distractedly picking things up and staring at them for minutes at end before once more replacing them and starting off towards a new object. Even though his head ached from tiredness, he hadn't been able to sleep at all that night, and now he was waiting…

He should've known, of course. Even if the Wizarding world had made a stab at mercy, it didn't really matter, because he and the universe both knew that he didn't deserve it. And he supposed that this was the way things had of putting themselves right. Freedom, sure. A job, fine, he could have that. But normality? Friends? Who are you trying to fool, _Pettigrew_? And what on earth possessed you to try to be friends with Remus' _wife_, of all people? Oh yeah, right, you're a selfish bastard, and you've always been.

He recalled the feeling of rediscovering, slowly, what it was like to trust and care about a person, and thought, _Yes_. _Yes, I am selfish. But it felt… so _good_ to have a real friend again, so good to have just one person who would actually give a damn if I died, or disappeared. Of course I should've known it couldn't last, but the problem with Fanny, see, is that she makes you believe in things that should strictly be impossible._

The knock on the door wasn't the usual rowdy hammering, but a hesitant, feeble sound that faltered after just two or three blows. Sighing, he put a vase back in its place and went to open it. Nymphadora looked positively miserable, and her hair was a drab, mousy colour that accentuated the paleness of her skin and the dark smudges under her eyes. He hadn't been the only that couldn't sleep last night.

"Come in," he said, resigned. He knew what would come.

She hesitated, searching for the fear she knew she should feel. But it wasn't there. She could sense no lurking danger in the home that had been as much her own as the one she shared with her family, so she went in to sit in the horrendous sofa she'd worn a snugly little pit in, one that fitted her way of sitting in a teenagery knot perfectly. She pulled her feet up and hugged her knees, looking so much younger than she was in a way that couldn't be based solely on attitude. It was as if she'd reverted somewhat to that hurt girl Richard had heard so many stories about.

"Is it true, Richard?"

"Yes. I am… I _was_ Peter Pettigrew. Once. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say something before…" _…before you became the best friend I've ever had. Before living without you means living without a part of myself. _Now, finally, she could cry. The tears were silent and fell from her eyes like rain, unaccompanied by sobs.

Richard leaned against the door, helpless, because every effort to comfort must surely hurt her even more. "I should've. But… Damn it, Fanny, I had just resigned myself to the fact that I would live the rest of my life without friends, and then you… And suddenly, even though I knew it was the right thing to do, telling you… well, it didn't _feel_ very right at all." He heard the strain of tears that would be unforgivably selfish to cry behind his own voice.

And how could it be wrong, what they'd had? How could such friendship all of a sudden be a huge, terrible mistake? Dora couldn't fathom it, but she knew it was so because that was what the world told her. That this man, this wonderful person, was the scumbag that had ruined her husband's existence. That her best friend was Peter Pettigrew, and that she must cast him away.

"It can't work. We can't… I can't be with you, loving you so much and all the while knowing what you've done. I can't _believe_ it, but I still know. And Remus… It can't work."

Richard nodded, smiling a bleak and pathetic smile. He had, of course, nourished a feeble spark of hope, thinking that maybe it won't matter, maybe the whole world's changed and maybe the things I've done don't matter anymore… But of course, he'd known from the moment Sirius recognised him that he had lost her forever. "I know. I know it can't. I wouldn't ask that of you." _But I want to. And if that means I'm selfish, if that means I haven't learnt a thing, then fine. Maybe I'm just incorrigible. _"I'll be sorry to see you leave, of course, but at least…" He swallowed, wandering over to the window so that she wouldn't see his face. "Just by being my friend… what you've given me… I'm sorry, I really wish I knew how to say this. But even if it ends here, our friendship is more than I ever expected of life, more than I strictly speaking deserve, and I wanted you to know that I'm… grateful." He closed his eyes over the tears, freeing them. And as he looked up at the lingering gloom outside and his own image, reflected in the window's glass, he cursed himself inwardly. "I'm sorry about this," he said, not knowing if he meant the tears or everything he'd done or the whole stupid situation.

Dora got out of the sofa and went over to the door, feeling torn between running over to Richard and hugging him tight, like she always did when he had one of his crying fits, or screaming at him that it served him right to be in pain. She opted for neither one and simply whispered, "Goodbye," in a voice barely audible. But when she left the room she knew he'd heard it, along with everything she hadn't said.

* * *

Richard sent a note to McGonagall saying he was ill and couldn't teach, hoping she'd understand. Apparently she did, or at least didn't mind, and he spent the whole day in his bedroom, engulfed in guilt and shame. For the fact that he'd hurt almost everyone he'd ever loved, for the people that didn't live anymore because of him, for feeling sorry for himself because he was lonely, when he had no one else to blame but himself…

But somehow, the guilt he felt because he'd lied to Nymphadora, because he'd hurt her, was worse. It was completely backward and most definitely wrong of him, but he couldn't pretend he didn't know why. It was because of all the people he'd lied to, disregarded and betrayed, she was the only one he still loved and cared about. That made it worse.

And he wondered if his grief over her, his longing and affection for her, would be dulled and finally buried, just like everything he'd felt for his other friends after the betrayal. He hoped that it at least counted for something, anything, that he wished with all his heart that it wouldn't be so.

* * *

**A/N: **If you think it is over now, you're wrong, of course, because we do need SOME kind of plot. SO! Exciting twists, turns and veritable knots in the plot to come. Exciting!


	9. Men are swine

**A/N: **Oh, dear, if this doesn't make you choke on your dinners at least once, then we're obviously not doing it right. Oh, and once more there's a hint thrown into the mix somewhere, although this one is so far quite obscure. Much enjoyment!

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**Men are swine**

* * *

Four weeks.

Twenty eight days.

Six hundred and seventy two _fucking_ _hours!_

Dora knew, she'd counted them. She'd bolted out of bed after yet another nightmare of hanging alone suspended in some vast, immeasurable place where maddeningly tasteless patterns where swirling around her and no one heard her desperate screams for help.

She'd pitter-pattered to the office, sat her ass down by her desk and summed up the time she'd been without Richard and written the number down on a piece of paper that she pinned up on the wall, as if that would somehow make it more bearable.

Now she was staring at it. The Number, capital letters shining brightly scarlet in her mind, taunting her with shrill voices. She couldn't help but wonder if he was lonely too. Hell, she didn't have to wonder, she _knew_ he was. The crippling loneliness that had settled like an ache in her bones must still be nothing compared to what he was going through… But she wasn't supposed to think like that. Richard…no, _Peter_, was evil. He'd ruined so many lives, including her husband's. She couldn't allow herself to pity him. He didn't deserve it.

And yet, she did. She'd tried so hard not to, but she couldn't help herself. Every aspect of her life reminded her of Richard, and no one was there to help her work through the hurt and the pain. Everyone simply took for granted that she'd break it off with the man the words 'best friend' was nothing but a feeble substitute for a relationship there hadn't been words invented to describe. She simply couldn't bring herself to hate him.

Or rather, she hated him, she just didn't hate _him_.

The paradox was enough to make her head hurt, but then the answer flashed briefly in her head, like the gleam of a fish's scales when it makes a sudden turn in murky water. It made her back straighten and she sat perfectly still in her chair with her eyes focused on nothing in particular, waiting for its return. If it was one thing Auror training had taught her, it was waiting.

And there it was again. She hated Peter Pettigrew, with all her heart.

And with all her heart she loved Richard Darling.

She went straight to the fireplace and got a fire going, trusting in the protection charms to keep it from setting the house on fire when she'd gone. Then she threw a fistful of Floo powder in and entered before she could change her mind.

Knowing him, and god knew she did, he'd be awake too.

* * *

Richard _was_ awake, and when he heard the whoosh of flames he knew exactly what it meant. Sirius had told everyone, everyone had told their friends, their mother and their dog, and the angry mob was there to burn him on a stake. He reached for his wand and then swore under his breath as he once again forgot that right, he didn't _have_ a right hand, grabbed it in his left and went calmly and deliberately to the door.

However, it wasn't an angry mob. It was Dora, stark naked except a pair of boxers, shivering slightly and standing in the crouched covering-my-boobs pose that was only matched for silliness by the don't-kick-me-in-the-nuts pose. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and without even thinking about it, without _having_ to think, he grabbed a nightgown in peach silk and hurried over to drape it over her shoulders.

"You do know how to make an entry, don't you?" he mumbled, ushering her into a chair.

"And _you_ might possibly be the only man alive that would seriously have a peach _silk_ nightgown." It wasn't the right thing to say, not the _appropriate_ thing, but their friendship was based on saying the wrong things at the right occasions so Dora supposed she could have done worse for a first remark.

"Check Sirius' wardrobe and you'll be surprised." Shit, shit, _shit_, and the first thing he did was to mention Sirius! It had actually looked like he might have a chance, but now Dora was going to leave. Again. As if one time wasn't bad enough.

"Always knew that man was a total fairy." Sure it had stung, to hear him mention Sirius, but facing the fact that Richard _had _known the man was all part of this. If it couldn't even be mentioned, there was no future for them.

Richard didn't know what to say, what to do, and so he simply stared. After a few seconds he slumped bonelessly into the sofa, never once taking his eyes off her. He couldn't even come up with something clever to say. And so he was left with saying exactly why he knew he needed to say, even if he didn't really want to. "Fanny? Why the hell are you here? I mean… I'm… Well, I still am… well, _obviously_… You know what I'm trying to… thing. _Say_." Feeling like a complete idiot, he leaned his head in his hands.

"I'm here because I love you, Richard." Tender words, like soft feathers in the air, fragile and forbidden. As it is with so many things you're not supposed to do or like, it felt damn good saying them.

"No you don't!" Richard snapped, looking up and glaring at her through the tears he hadn't wanted to show. "You hate me! And if you don't, you damn well _should_!"

"Don't you go telling me what I feel you silly old faggot! You are a sweet, caring man who couldn't… no, _wouldn't_ hurt a fly even if it was a giant mutant fly with razor sharp fangs and lasers firing from it's eyes!" When Dora saw that Richard was about to interrupt she raised a hand. "No, you shut up. _Peter Pettigrew _on the other hand, is a completely different story. _That_ man is the scum of the earth and I hate him almost as much as I imagine you do, though I find it very hard to think that _anyone_ could hate him as much as you because you, my friend, have to live with the fact that you once were that man. Being the wonderful man you are must make that absolutely unbearable. And it hit me that without me you're going through all that pain alone, because without me there is no one who truly cares about you. Now, I might be the last person who should be your friend, but since I happen to be your _only_ friend I would be a right bastard if I abandoned you, so I won't, and that's the end of that."

Now it didn't matter that Richard didn't know what to say, because he couldn't speak anyway. He was crying like a child, and he was very upset with Dora for not having the decency to at least make him feel one thing at a time. Now he was angry with her for not hating him, sad for her because of the pain she must've been going through, scared like shit by her because she made him forget all the rational reasons for why it was _good _that they weren't friends anymore that he'd managed to collect like a protective shell around himself, but most of all…

…he was happy. Deliriously happy. And that was the worst possible thing to feel.

_You haven't learnt shit, have you, Pettigrew?_

But no, he wasn't going to go there. Not now. Not when Fanny was back and the world was right again.

_The name is Darling, thank you._

So he stood up, because his vocal chords were still tied in a knot, and returned after a minute or two with tea and cupcakes.

"Here. It's your favourite."

"Um, feel like explaining to me why you have peppermint cherry cupcakes, since I'm like the only person to ever like that particular pastry and I know for a fact that you hate them?" Dora asked before taking a huge bite of a cupcake and letting an enormous smile spread over her face. "Mmm, I've _missed_ these. Can't make them myself, and Remus won't even try. He gets squicked out just by thinking about it."

Richard sighed. "Look in the kitchen. But I'm warning you. It's not pretty."

Dora went to the kitchen and stood a few seconds in shocked silence before bursting out in delighted laughter. The place was littered with cupcakes on every available surface. "May the Lord have mercy on us, it's an invasion!"

"You should be frightened. And I should be ashamed of the utter creepiness of it. But I just kept thinking that in case you _did_ come back… Pathetic, I know."

"Yeah, a little. But hey, I get cupcakes!" She sighed, "Well, that's the easy part over with… Mind if I stay the night? I don't fancy facing Remus just yet."

Richard laughed dryly. "I imagine not. He's a frightening thing to behold when he's angry. And sure you can stay. But if you don't call him he's going to be very worried, and if you _do_ call him… what are you going to say?"

"Oh shit… I guess I just figured I'd let him sleep and then be there in the morning. But I suppose he'll notice… I suppose I should go back."

"Of course he will notice. After the war... And he'll be terrified if he wakes up and you're not there, honey. I think neither of us want to be responsible for that, right?"

"No." Dora said, looking like a chastised schoolgirl. "You're right, I'll go home."

"It's probably for the best. But let's hope he hasn't woken up, because – and I say this with all love and respect – you look like you _really_ need some sleep."

* * *

"Where the _hell _have you been?!" Remus was out of his bed, his hair on end, holding a phone in his hand like it was a dead thing. His face shone white and was twisted in a grimace of fear and fury.

Dora swallowed, knowing that what she would tell him in no way would soothe his feelings and dreading with all her being what she knew would turn into their first real fight for thirteen years. "I… I was with Richard."

"I… You… _What?!_" Now he was starting to look mildly deranged. The phone was repeating his name, louder and louder. He held it up to his mouth and said, "She's here," in a leaden voice before hanging up without further explanation. And then he advanced on Dora, eyes narrowing. "Are you telling me that the reason I find your bed empty in the middle of the night, that I just ran through every room of the house… Because I couldn't call out your name, could I? That would wake the children! And while… while I'm… you're off to see a murderer in the dead of night? Thank you, that explains it all, let's just go off to bed, shall we?"

Dora held her ground. She'd faced too many things in her line of work to allow herself to be intimidated by her own _husband_. Plus, she knew that it would kill Remus to know she'd ever feared him. Or, it would when he came back to his senses. "Richard is not a murderer, Remus. You're thinking about Peter Pettigrew, and that man is dead."

Her words reached into his fury and switched it off, leaving him with a lot of momentum and nowhere for it to go. Trying to be as gentle as he possibly could, carefully approached her. It was very clear to him what had happened. She was in denial. Badly in denial. It was as if the war had decided to deal a final, posthumous blow towards them.

"Please love… I know this is very difficult for you, but you also know that they are one and the same and it's not going to get easier if you pretend otherwise."

Dora shook her head. "No, you're misunderstanding me. They're the same person, but they're _not_. What I'm trying to get at is that whatever in him it was that made him capable of… of doing things like that, he's killed it. It's dead within him, Remus. Dead and buried. And I'm… I'm all he's got!"

And the fury returned in full force, and there was a horrible moment when he raised his hand over her face before he even realized what he was doing, as if to… as if to… A moment later he was backing away from her, shaking with instant self-loathing which only made the anger escalate even faster. So even though her eyes narrowed in sudden anger and he felt like the lowest, most despicable being on earth, the words still flew out of him with the force and deadliness of bullets. "You're all… You're all… He's already got more than he deserves! He definitely has more than I had when… when I… when Sirius… But you can't understand, can you? It wasn't _your_ life, your friends, your boyfriend, was it?"

Dora tried to stay calm. She knew Remus had the moral high ground in the eyes of the world, and hey, who could blame him for being angry, really? She sure as hell didn't. "No, Peter Pettigrew hasn't destroyed my life, but he _did_ destroy yours, and if you think that doesn't affect me…"

"Well, _yes_, I did," he snarled. "But apparently _that's_ only an issue as long as it doesn't interfere between you and _Richard_. But if that's the choice you want to make, then _fine_."

It was getting harder and harder for Dora to just take it, going against her own nature (in truth, it was the fact that she was going _with_ her nature, as it had once been, that was getting to her). "You know, I think I've heard this somewhere before. I think it was when our daughter had just been born and aforementioned boyfriend stormed in to tell you that if you wanted to make a _choice_ then that was just _fine _with him. I haven't chosen anything, Remus, but if you force me to of course I'll choose you. I love you. Without you, the world doesn't make sense. Without you I… I can't breathe!" Christ, how she wanted to kiss him then. How she wanted to take a giant leap into his arms and blot everything out with her lips, those lips she now had to put to a much more painful use. "But if you force that choice upon me you'll force me to abandon my best friend when he needs me most, and I will try for you, my love, I'll bust my back bending over backwards to make you happy, and it'll destroy me."

Remus turned away, feeling so angry and so very, very confused; so raw and bruised, as if someone had opened up his ribcage and pummelled his heart to make it beat in this harsh, erratic manner that now kept echoing in his ears. "No, Dora. I'm not… I _can't_… Whether you like it or not, there _has _to be a choice. I… can't… live knowing that…" Not finding anything in his heart that he could say that could take back and mend and make better, Remus just shook his head and slowly sat down on the bed, feeling a million years old.

Dora went cold all over. She looked at Remus as if from a long, long distance away, and she felt like a robot when she went over to the wardrobe and started to get dressed. She loved him so much, but suddenly his sheer proximity made her feel sick. "Alright then." When she'd finished putting on her clothes she took out a bag and started to pack it. "We'll do it your way. I'll be back in… in a while and then we'll do it your way. I can't be around you right now… but I'll be back."

And she left.

* * *

Richard padded silently through the kitchen – now free of the hysteric cupcakes – putting water on the stove to boil and bread in the oven to warm. Then he opened the door to the living room, careful to keep it from creaking. Nymphadora was sprawled over the sofa, her face pale against the dark velvet, the pinkness of her hair clashing a bit with its purple colour. Even though she was asleep, she looked exhausted, and he could clearly see the redness that rimmed her eyes. She'd cried herself to sleep. Softly, he closed the door again. He then grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter and snuck into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He didn't want to wake her up.

For a while, he just stared at the phone, as if it was some kind of complicated riddle that he was trying to figure out. Then he drew a deep breath – for strength – and slowly dialled the number.

After just one signal, he could hear someone picking up. "_Dora_?" said Remus' voice, harsh with worry, and Richard nodded to himself. He'd been right.

"No. It's R- Peter. _Don't hang up,_" he added sharply, anticipating the reaction. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk to me. But I also know you're worried. So I just wanted to tell you that Nymphadora is here. She is safe and sound and not out in the streets getting molested or subject to any of the other countless dangers that you've doubtlessly invented during the night. However, she _is_ very upset." No answer, but he could still hear Remus breathing on the other end of the line. "I thought you should know that she arrived here in tears and has remained in that state for most of her time here. Her being your wife, I thought that might interest you."

"What do you want?" Remus' voice was harsh and cold.

"It's not about what I want. It's about what I don't want. I _don't _want to see her like this. I _don't_ want to have to hold the poor thing while she cries her heart out. I _don't_ want her to spend the night on my sofa when I know that what she longs for more than anything is to fall asleep beside her loving husband. And most of all, I don'twant _my _past stupidities to go out over _her_. I hope you realise that's what you are doing, Remus. It's beyond my understanding why she should be made to suffer for the atrocities I committed during the wars. It's only reasonable that if anyone should be made to suffer, it's me, yet strangely enough,_ I'm _not the one crying. She is."

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, but he wasn't prepared to let Remus off the hook just yet, so he plunged straight on.

"Now, I appreciate that finding out who I once was must've upset you pretty badly. I can only imagine how much you must hate me. And believe me, you have my full sympathies if you are worried about Nymphadora; I haven't exactly been known to treat my friends well. But the fact remains that right now, _I'm_ not the one hurting her."

"Are you finished?" Remus asked, his voice like ice.

"Almost. What I wanted to have said is that it's up to you if you think this is the right way to deal with the situation. If you really think it justifies throwing away one of the most precious gifts ever given to you, then fine, go right ahead. Go ahead and hurt her. But you and I both know that this woman is the best thing that ever happened to you, and losing her over _me_ would be the biggest mistake you ever made. I'm not worth it.

"Now, if you excuse me, I have bread waiting for me in the oven and water boiling, so if you don't mind, I am going to abandon you to make breakfast to a heartbroken woman. Why don't you find Grace and tell her that mother is sleeping over at a friend's house? Good morning to you."

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line, then a crash and a click, probably caused by Remus throwing the phone rather than hanging up the usual way. Richard sighed, allowing his heart to slowly calm down while he stared at the phone in his hand, now emitting a long, monotonous tone. Sorrow mingled with relief in his heart. It had been easier than he had thought; yet causing such anger and bitterness in a man he honestly liked and regretted ever having hurt… it had taken a lot out of him. Now he only had to hope that Remus, once he'd cooled down, would realise that he'd spoken the truth. No matter who he was, Peter Pettigrew or Richard Darling, he certainly wasn't worth giving up Nymphadora over. And if Remus thought he was, he almost deserved the loss.

* * *

Closer up, Richard noticed how her mussed hair stuck up at the front from all the times she'd pulled her hand through it. He wondered if she'd always done that, or if she had mimicked the gesture he'd seen Remus use so many times. She looked very, very young with it sticking up like that, a small frown marring her forehead, her mouth slightly ajar and her eyelids twitching in uneasy sleep.

Or possibly he just felt very, very old.

"Boy troubles," he mumbled, pushing some strands of bubblegum pink hair out of her face. "Don't we know them?" Although Remus wasn't nearly as bad as his own old 'boy troubles'. Come to think of it, a good size hurricane wasn't nearly as bad. He shook his head, smiling a bit ruefully. He was very glad that Dora didn't have his talent for screwing his life up. Then he gently grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her.

"Dora, dear. Breakfast is ready."

She opened a bleary eye, trying and failing to smile at him. She looked positively miserable. But soon, she'd be positively miserable with chocolate, and that was better.

"I know, I know," he mumbled. "Men are swine. Or snakes." He grabbed her under her armpits like a child and pulled her into sitting position, balancing the tray on her lap. "Eat a bit. It'll make you feel better.

"Food, the Queen Mother's preferred cure to all ills," Nymphadora said before attacking her breakfast.

"Dear god, do you ever stop making jokes about everything?" Actually, it was a relief to hear her joking. It meant that whatever that dark, tear-filled apathy he had seen yesterday had been, it had gone away for now.

"Don't worry, I'll be back to absolutely fist-fucking miserable in a jiffy. I just thought I'd enjoy a meal before starting to bawl again."

Richard started to say, "What's so miserable about tha-" and then looked reluctantly impressed with himself. "My, wasn't that the most tasteless remark ever? I'm sorry."

Dora laughed. "Well, I must agree on all accounts. Tasteless, yes, and what's so miserable indeed? I just thought it gave the expression a little more… jazz, you know?"

"I don't know if that's quite the word I'd use, but sure. However… I do think it would be good to discuss some more serious matters right now."

Dora's face fell and the by now so familiar tears started to rise in her eyes again. "But it's all so very simple, my dear. In a day or two I'll go back to Remus and live with him, his way, pretending I am perfectly fine with acting like you never existed. In time, I'll learn to be reasonably happy, too, but sooner or later our marriage _will_ fail, whereupon I trust in you to still be here providing love, comfort and cupcakes. So very _fucking simple._"

"Hush, dear," Richard mumbled, pulling her close in a very tentative embrace. "We don't know this for sure, yet. But…" He sighed, pulling away so that he could meet her gaze. "There is something you should know." He took a deep breath and thought, _Here goes_. "I called him."

Dora's eyes widened in absolute horror. "You did _what?_"

"Ah, yes, I thought you might take it like that. And before you say anything more, I'm going to call to my defence that among my strong sides, my good judgement has always been noticeably lacking." He smiled wryly. "But I thought I should make a stab at shaking some sense into his stubborn head. God knows that sometime you need a considerable shock to reach in. Or possibly a sledgehammer."

"You are insane, and I mean that in the worst possible way. Do you have a death wish or something?" Dora shook her head. "He'll kill you, and then off me for good measure."

Richard laughed softly. "Believe me, as I said, I know that Remus is downright frightening when he's angry, but he'll carve his own heart out with his nails before he hurts you. Intentionally, at least. I've only ever seen him strike out against someone in anger two times, and both times, the person in question deserved it."

"That's comforting…" Dora muttered, but how was Richard supposed to know about Remus' raised hand the night before? She hadn't told him, since he knew it would cause her husband immeasurable pain if a man he hated so much knew of his weakness. "Anyway, it's done. Don't you have work to do?"

Something about the way she spoke worried Richard deeply, but he couldn't put his finger on what, and besides, he was sure that he was right about Remus. He'd never hurt someone unless they really deserved it, and the only ones that had ever deserved it enough were Sirius and… well, him.

"Uhm, Fanny my dear… it's Saturday, you know. I've got some first-year essays to look through, but that can wait for now. I'll be here for you for as long as you need until you feel you can go back to him, do you understand? I'll take some more sick leave if needed. If this is our last time together before you leave, then the brats can darn… _damn _well wait."

And that was enough to start the tears falling all over again, and Dora found herself wondering if they would ever stop.

* * *

Remus was sitting by the table, unshaven and miserable, staring down into a glass of whiskey. Grace was at a friend's house, and he hated himself for being relieved, but right now, he didn't feel he could be a very good father.

"Remus? I rang the doorbell but no one answered and… and _you_ look like a temperance league advert. Mind telling me what the fuck's going on?" Sirius sat down opposite to him, looking both shocked and worried.

"If no one answered the door it might be because no one wants you here. Go away."

Sirius' expression didn't change. Remus might be making a good effort, but he had nothing on Severus. "So, you're upset. I got that. It wasn't very hard to figure out when you call me in the dead of night to yell that Dora's gone, and then suddenly tell me she's back again and hang up without an explanation. That's why I came here, see? So what's happened?"

"Want an explanation, do you? Well, my darling wife have decided that how much she cares about _Richard_ is more important than the fact that he's the same man who ruined my life because, you see, he _isn't _because he's _changed_ and now _I'm_ the one she can't handle being around." Remus was almost shaking with fury, but underneath it was a sorrow and loneliness that had nothing to do with what he thought of as Dora's betrayal and all to with the simple fact that she was gone.

Sirius paled visibly and for a few moments sat block still. Then he stretched out his hand and covered Remus' with it, squeezing it in a gesture that probably wouldn't bring much comfort to Remus, but at least it was something. "So… She's gone to him? Is she...?" The words, 'Is she leaving you?' hovered on his tongue, but from him they would just sound so wrong, he knew it.

"Yes, she's there. _He _called me to tell me that, can you believe it?" Remus' snarled out the words, and he meant to keep the same tone when he continued, but somehow, to himself at least, he ended up just sounding…lost. "She… she'll come back. She told me so when she left." His voice broke a little. "She said she couldn't be around me! As if I was the one doing something wrong!"

And a horrible, nasty thought struck Sirius. He thought, _I could make him hate her. Right now. It would be easy. I know which buttons to push; all the misery I could dreg up to remind him just how much he _really_ hates Peter. And if he begins to hate her it will only be a matter of time before he comes back to me; there, too, I know exactly how to make him do as I want to. It would be so easy…_

And yes, the thought was there, but it was encircled on all sides by the knowledge that he would not do it. Could not do it. It was unfair, because Dora was the kind of person that loved everybody, and she oughtn't to be hated for that. It was cruel, because Remus was so happy with Dora and Sirius wasn't at all sure he could make him as happy. It was downright bastardly, really, because there was Teddy and Grace to consider. And…

And of course, Severus would never forgive him.

Sirius blinked. Where had that thought come from? And why had it hit with considerably more force than even the thought of the children? Why had it hurt so much to think… to think…

And then he realised, and felt his stomach collapsing and his head silently imploding, as instant panic overloaded all of his systems at once. But after only a few seconds, he very carefully took this whole frightening new world of emotion and shut it in some distant corner of his heart. Plenty of time for that later. Right now, Remus needed him, and that was still, if not the first, then at least the _second_ most important thing.

He leaned forward, trying to make eye contact, and said… the right thing. It didn't really feel right, but for once, he was sure of it that those two – _feeling_ and _being_ – didn't mean the same thing.

"You know, Remus… It must be really hard for her to see Peter in that man. I almost didn't, you know. At first, I thought he seemed like this really nice chap, and I couldn't for the world understand why something about him was making me so very annoyed. And if she's really learnt to love him as this Richard Darling persona, then it must be even harder. I mean, she didn't even meet him."

"I don't care if she loves him!" Remus shouted, and made it very clear that he _did_ care, and quite a lot at that. "She claims to love _me_ too, and if she really…" He broke of in mid-sentence, perhaps realising with some part of himself that what he'd almost said would be absolutely unforgivable, even if Dora never found out that he'd ever doubted. So he took a breath and picked up somewhere on the other side of the great void of unspeakableness. "Then she wouldn't even _think _about being that man's friend! And why are you defending her? You of all people should realise what she's done!"

"I realise what _he's_ done, Remus," Sirius said, not believing that he was doing this either. "Look, I do understand why you're angry, I would be pretty damn angry too. But what she has done is nothing worse than… well, being her. That's how she is, you know that. If she loves someone then she can't just leave them. That's the person you fell in love with, wasn't it? The annoying girl who just wouldn't leave you alone to die of misery because she loved you?"

"I can't believe you're actually on her side in all this! I mean if _we'd _still been together and this had happened…"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well that's because if we were together this _wouldn't _have happened, because I figured out that he was Peter bloody Pettigrew, the man who landed me a one-way ticket to a cosy little cell in Azkaban, about a minute after I first saw him. And that's exactly my point, Remus. I'd know. And even if he would somehow manage to fool me for a while… well, the truth _would _come out and when it did there would be too much history between us for there ever to be an existing friendship. And, if we're going to be _real_ logical about this, it wouldn't have happened because he wouldn't have gone within a hundred yards of either one of us. But you're not together with me, you're married to _her_, and the person she sees when she looks at him is the loving, kind friend that he's always been right up until the point you told her about him. She wasn't there, Remus. She can feel sorry for you, but she can never feel the pain he caused us then; at least not as strongly as she can feel the love she has for him _right now._" He sighed. "I think what she's doing is madness, I really do, but come on… is that scumbag really worth losing your wife over?"

Remus smiled, and there was something very frightening about that smile. "But I haven't lost her, have I? She said she'll come back and never see him again. I guess you're right, shouldn't make more fuss about it then, it's all settled."

Sirius looked appalled. "Yeah, but she'll be _miserable_! Look, if she feels she needs to see him then just… let her. You don't have to see him yourself, do you? You always told _me _you'd do anything to make me happy, so it's only fair that you do her the same favour." Sirius knew it was low blow, but somehow it was suddenly – and ironically – very important that he did everything he possibly could to save Remus' marriage.

And there it all broke apart for Remus. He couldn't pretend even for a second that it wouldn't destroy Dora to leave a friend behind; he couldn't pretend it wouldn't make a mockery of their marriage if he forced her to and he couldn't pretend that his life had any meaning without her in it. So he buried his head in his hands and cried like he hadn't done for a long, long while.

Sirius jumped to his feet and rushed over to Remus' side, wrapping his arms around the other man in an awkward embrace. He was relieved when his heart _didn't_ skip this time, but knew it was proof of nothing except that right now, Remus needed his friendship and absolutely nothing else. He'd find out later, but this was not the time.

"I know you hate the idea, Remus, but you should probably go there. I think your wife needs you."

* * *

**A/N: **...don't kill us?


	10. Concerning forgiveness

**A/N: **Hello, pips. It's really late, we're damn tired, but YEY, look, still a new chapter. Let's see how this one boogies in Amster_damn that's hot_! Uh, sorry, don't really know what that one came from. As I said, we're tired. Anyway, we do hope that we manage to squick at least one or two of you out. If we don't, we must simply be losing our edge. Everywhere you look, a new and unexpected pairing! Or something. Goodnight.

**

* * *

Chapter nine**

**Concerning forgiveness**

* * *

When Sirius had left, Remus stood for a long time by the kitchen window, staring without really seeing at the children involved in some kind of warfare on the playground outside. Suddenly, the feelings that had made him hyper-sensitive just a moment ago now formed some kind of thick blanket that seemed to wrap around his soul, muffling every impression and taking the edge of every thought. He knew, in the end, what he was going to have to do, but first he had to wade through the gluey substance that is indecision.

It had been hard enough to decide _not_ to pull Teddy out of Hogwarts. Even though he had been absolutely livid at the time, and even though the thought of _that man_ close to his own child made his skin crawl, he'd been unable to do it. Going to Hogwarts had meant so much to Remus when he'd been a kid, he had loved his time there, and judging from his letters, so did Teddy. Also, he suspected that it was rather nice for Teddy to not have to be around Grace all the time. She could be a very trying experience for her loving parents, and for a big brother… well, it was probably a wonder he hadn't strangled her. So, no matter how he twisted and turned the matter in his mind, Remus hadn't managed to justify depriving his son of this when he, after all, was damn sure that there wasn't any real danger. If Peter had really been in possession of some kind of mad urge for twisted revenge, he had been left alone in the vicinity of Teddy and Grace enough times for him to carry out any evil plot on them, had that been his objective. Dora had cautiously agreed. And once they'd made the decision, it had been unthinkable to tell Teddy about it. It wasn't something a kid should have to know and think about concerning his own teacher.

Remus lifted a hand that felt unnaturally heavy to once more rake it through his now grey hair, noting from the reflection in the drawing-room mirror that there were several dashes of white in it. He looked old for his age, and felt even older. Mostly, he guessed, because he was now slowly starting to feel guilty, as his conversation with Sirius sunk even deeper, through the layers of confusion and anger and into parts of his mind where he could not lie to himself anymore.

Had it been anyone but Sirius, he could probably have shut it out and told himself that they didn't understand. But Sirius did understand, and Remus had been so sure that his friend and former lover would agree with him, that when Sirius hadn't it had been like receiving a bucket-full of ice cold water to the face. Remus had wanted Sirius to be just as angry and resentful as he was feeling, so that he could prove to himself that he was right although even _Peter_ was sounding more sensible than his own twisted motives. And then they could've been angry with Dora and Peter together, and maybe Remus wouldn't have felt so lonely anymore. But when even Sirius seemed to think he wasn't being rational – Sirius, who had every reason to side with Remus and _didn't, _because he didn't think it would be right – trying to convince himself that what Dora was doing was horrible and cruel was suddenly… impossible.

And now, he had to see Dora and ask her to forgive him. Sighing, Remus set his course on the kitchen. He felt the need for a very strong cup of coffee coming on.

* * *

Dora was dancing around the kitchen. Richard had gone away briefly to sort out some kind of trouble he was – according to the very upset third year who'd pounded on his door – the only one who could solve. He'd seemed tempted to tell the youngster to (in very mild tones, of course) sod off, but she'd waved for him to go. Sure, this was their last time together and sometimes she felt like she didn't want to let Richard out of her sight for long enough to go to the loo, but she'd been suddenly overcome with a strange need to be alone.

Knowing that she was perfectly allowed she started poking around the place to find something to entertain herself with. She ended up rifling through his CD's, shaking her head at what she found. Where was the groove? The boogie? The rock and friggin' roll? She ended up with bouncing around to 'Be my baby' by The Ronettes whilst trying to make herself a snack. She didn't know why, but she was ravenous.

A part of her felt that she shouldn't be happy. That she should be lying in a puddle on the sofa constantly mopping up tears, but the thing was, that didn't help. There would be plenty of time for being miserable once she was back with Remus, but right now she had a precious few days with Richard that she had decided to enjoy.

Hence the peanut butter–banana sandwich in her hand and the way out of tune I-have-my-mouth-full-of-sticky-stuff belting of "Be myyyy, be my baby!"

Maybe it wasn't the right way, but it was _her_ way.

Suddenly, the volume dropped rather drastically, and a moment later, Richard was in the kitchen, looking amused. "Trust you to wreak havoc while I'm gone," he said, indicating the breadcrumbs scattered over the kitchen counter, the banana peel hanging over the edge of the wastebasket and the peanut butter smear on the door of one of the dressers.

She hurried her last bite down her throat, almost choking in the process, to be able to answer. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think…"

Richard waved his wand at the mess to clear it, smiling. "Don't fret, dear. A little havoc is good for the soul. But if you don't mind I'm going to kill the music. After _that_ particular tangle with testy teenagers I'm not really in the mood for Veronica and the girls."

"Kill away, kill away," Dora said with a hand-wave of her own. "You know, there's something I just figured out I want us to talk about."

Richard had hurried over to the rather ancient CD player that along with his kitchen and his phone had been excepted from the charms that would mess with all electronic devices that were brought into the school grounds. "Indeed? And what is that?"

She sat herself down and took another munch, providing some time for her to phrase her question. "Why, Richard? Why did you do… what you did back then?"

There was a tremendous crash as Richard knocked over the CD-rack and sent disks cartwheeling over the floor. "_Sugar._ Oh, dear." He turned around, apparently oblivious of the mess he'd caused, and he looked rather pale all of a sudden. "You… Why did you…? You _want_ to know?"

"Well… yes. I don't know why, really, but I do."

He shook his head, stunned, and like a sleepwalker ambled over to slump heavily into a ridiculously cushioned armchair. "Why do you ask me this now? It's not a particularly pretty tale, and it doesn't hold any excuses or answers, and we have so little time as it is."

Dora shrugged. "Well, if we'd had all the time in the world I would have waited for some day when the rain was pissing down and we didn't feel like doing anything but lying silent on your bed staring at the ceiling. But the thing is, it seems like this is all the time we've got, and I need to know."

"Oh, well." Richard sighed and looked resigned. "Do you want the long or the short explanation?"

"What's the short version?"

"Oh, it goes along the lines of, 'I was a cowardly bastard and an idiot'. But I have a feeling that's not going to be enough."

"No shit Sherlock. That's not only the short, but also the public version. And you're stalling."

Richard smiled reluctantly. "You figured that out, did you?"

"Yup, you tried to buy me off with the theatrical version that went up in the movie-theatres. What I want is the extended DVD version with the behind the scenes documentary."

"Have I ever told you how much I _love_ your metaphors?" Richard said with very mild sarcasm. "Very well then, the dog's bollocks, no bullshit, is that it?"

"Why Richard, you're swearing!" Dora squealed with a delighted smile.

"Yes, and I blame it entirely on you. If you don't mind…" He summoned a bottle of cherry wine and two glasses from a cupboard. "I'm going to need something to drink, and so will you." He poured a good measure in both glasses and then leaned back, preferring to look at the wine rather than Dora. "Very well then. Where to begin? You already know about my days in school and I suppose you can figure out what part that will play in it all. So, I suppose it begins when I left Hogwarts. How's the wine?"

"It tastes like a liquid pastry, and if you try to stall any more I'll force you to drink the entire bottle in one gulp."

"Can't blame a lady for trying. Well, I had actually figured that it would be good for me to… get away a bit from my friends after school, you know? I was quite sure that if I only managed to get some distance between us, I would be able to act less like an invertebrate around them. Unfortunately, life didn't turn out like that, because the summer when we left Hogwarts for good we walked straight into a madly raging war. And… well, I don't have to tell you what being in the middle of a war is like, do I?"

"No, no you don't," Dora answered with a grim face.

"So instead I clung to them for dear life, since they were the only real friends I had. We all huddled together like… some arbitrary small species with fur during a storm. If I had been dependent on them before, the war didn't exactly make things better. And so, when they joined the Order, of course I did so as well. It wasn't really a real choice I made. Of course I believed in the cause, but… well, suddenly I was a soldier without ever really remembering signing up as one. And of course I sometimes resented them for it. I couldn't help it." He took a deep gulp of wine and then put the glass down so that he wouldn't spill on himself. Suddenly his hand was shaking.

"You shouldn't have been there, man," Dora said, meaning it with all her heart. She knew the perils of having someone on a team like the Order that didn't want to be there. It was very, very dangerous, and as she knew how Richard's tale would end she felt very justified in her opinion.

"No, I shouldn't. But I had nowhere else to go and as I said, I was frightened. More frightened of being alone than of fighting. And so I did what I knew, deep down, was the selfish thing to do." For a moment he sat quiet, thinking. "It was during a battle that… I was duelling someone – no idea who, those bloody masks – and a body binding-spell from somewhere hit me in the back. I was blown out of the line of fire, and before my opponent could make short work of me, someone took my place and I was forgotten. It was dark and people were confused and… well. And I was left alone in the darkness when they took off, helpless." He shuddered at the memory. "Of course the Order had a system for picking up people left behind without risking ambushes, Apparating in a certain order and after a certain pattern to the battlefield. Unfortunately, some smart bastard among the Death Eaters figured that out and worked out the pattern, and so they walked into a trap anyway and only barely escaped. And then, the Death Eaters found me." De downed the rest of the wine in one gulp. "It was the Carrows that first noticed me, and they of course wanted to kill me at the spot after just some light torture to add some spice to it. But I wasn't as lucky, because in that moment Snape appeared and said, no, I know that one, he's weak, he'll sing like a bird if we just torture him for a while. And so I was taken to where they were currently keeping hidden, and… tortured. I don't need to describe what they did, do I?"

"No, you don't," Dora said gently with compassion in her eyes.

"I tried. I really tried." His voice was hoarse and choked now. "And even when I started talking, when my mind was so muddled with pain that I would've done _anything_ to make it stop, I still managed to only answer to their questions, no more. I tried lying, as well, but Snape just looked right into my mind and saw when I did that. Nonetheless, they were going bored, and apparently I didn't know much enough to be worth the effort, and they were just going to put me out of my misery when… when _he_ suddenly was there."

"Jesus Christ in a pair of slippers!" Dora blurted out. She was very much involved in the story, as she had an extremely vivid imagination and was practically writhing on the ground herself with the Dark Lord standing over her.

"That's one way of putting it." Richard swallowed. "Can you pour some more wine? My hand… Thank you." But as he took a new, deep gulp, the sweet, perfume-like taste just made him feel ill, and with a grimace he put the glass away. "He probably wondered what his followers were doing instead of grovelling before him. And when he saw me and Snape explained the situation, he decided to join the game." He nervously rubbed his hand against his robes, as it was now clammy with sweat. "Snape had looked into my mind during the torture, but it was nothing compared to _his_ presence. He just pushed his way in and scrambled my mind like so much egg, and he was there, inside my head, while he tortured me. And he found that I… I react strangely to pain. I… please don't force me to say this. Do you understand what I mean?"

Dora's brow wrinkled, and then her eyes widened. "Are you telling me that… I mean… _seriously?_"

"Yes. Unfortunately. And so he tortured me and… he…" And now tears welled up in his eyes, as he'd known they would. "…he… did… he forced me to… he made me… and as he did, he forced me to… to enjoy it. I hated him and I hated myself but what did that matter to my body?"

"That is too many kinds of wrong to even start counting…" Dora intercepted, looking disgusted, and then her expression changed to horrified. "You know I mean what he did, right? I don't care a bit about what you…like."

"I know." Richard tried to smile reassuringly at her, but his face wouldn't cooperate with him. "But at any rate, it _felt_… very wrong,. And it kept on happening. He kept me alive. For fun or by design, I don't know. And after a while… I don't know how I can explain what happened, except perhaps by saying that my mind was so twisted and turned and cracked after just a few days there, and my body was giving in because constant panic wears you down, and so I scrambled madly for any kind of reassurance, any way to tell myself that what happened to me wasn't really that bad. And in the end…" He choked on his words, and had to take a deep breath before continuing. "Have you ever heard of the Stockholm syndrome?"

Dora _had_ heard of the Stockholm syndrome, but she didn't particularly feel like making the very, _very_ obvious conclusion that was looming above her head. "Please, Richard, _please_ tell me that the one you… attached yourself to was some random Death Eater who, I don't know, took care of you when you were healing or something."

Richard closed his eyes; he'd rather not see her expression. "No, not exactly. You see, the Death Eaters weren't the ones that were hurting me. I mean, of course they tortured me as much as they could get away with, but it was only… it was only _he…_ And after a while it became unbearable, and I… and I had to find some kind of reason… some way of excusing it when I… started to want for him to hurt me…"

"Ew! Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, eeeeeew! I'm sorry Richard but… I can't help it…" Dora shuddered. "_Ew!_"

"Well, that's a pretty healthy reaction. But that's where it started. Because after a while he let me go. Not that he understood what had happened, not really, he just thought I was more frightened of him than of what my friends would do if they found out I was a spy." Unconsciously he smiled, a bleak, eerie little smile. "He always thought about things in those kind of terms. There were so many things he didn't understand." The smile disappeared. "And I spied. And he was right about that I _was_ frightened. I didn't ever want to have to go through that ever again. Not the torture and the… other stuff, but the fear. Being constantly afraid, thinking every second that it was over, and they would finally kill you…" He shuddered, swallowing with a grimace as his stomach twisted and his mouth filled with gall. "And in my broken mind I knew that I would never be able to keep away. Even if I kept out of every battle, even if I tried to hide… sooner or later, I wouldn't be able to… to live without him. And if I didn't do as he said, he'd punish me, he'd kill me… So the things I did… I didn't do them for him. I did them for me. I won't say anything else, because that would be lying, and what's the point? I did it because I was frightened, because I knew he wouldn't give me a second chance to live… But the reason the fear was a part of me in the way it was, was that he had made it so. The moment _he_ became a part of me, so did the fear. To this day I don't know where my love for him ended, and the fear began. There wasn't much of a difference between the two, any way."

"Now there's a twist," Dora muttered. "You were actually _in love_ with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. I was. Trying to tell myself that it was just a mad obsession or… or that I was looking for someone to protect me… well, it was pointless. You don't feel like that if you're just… I mean, you don't go around worrying about the Dark Lord catching dragon pox when he's taming beasts for battle unless you really care. You don't dream about a future together with a homicidal mass murderer unless you'd seriously marry him if he asked. You don't get jealous when he…" He made an irritable grimace. "…actually, nevermind. The point is, it was stupid beyond belief and it was selfish and it was twisted, but it was still love."

Dora shook her head with a look of complete disbelief. "I know that they say 'love is blind', but in your case I think I'd say 'someone went in and chopped off love's head altogether', that someone probably being You-Know-Who himself. Damn, Richard! That was the most freakishly terrifying thing I've ever heard!"

And Richard couldn't help it; he laughed. "Well, yes. Quite. It seemed very logical to me then. Loving him, I mean. But of course, I was completely insane then, so that doesn't really count for much." But then the laughter died and he drew a very quiet, very tired sigh. "And so I went on spying, and no one suspected me. Ironically enough, it was probably partly because they knew I'd been a prisoner and had 'escaped'. Instead, they started looking sideways at poor Remus, as if he'd ever done anything that suggested that he'd… Well, anyway, I wasn't going to dissuade them. Partly because I was frightened, of course, but also because I was ashamed. Just the thought of what they'd say, what they'd think of me, if they ever found out… It made me want to crawl under a rock and die." He shook his head, his mouth twisting in a derisive smile. "I was pathetic. And since I knew it, I loathed myself, and my self-loathing just served to break down the last of my sanity."

"Huh, never figured I'd find myself feeling a sense of connection to Peter Pettigrew. I don't particularly like it," Dora said dryly.

"Well, I don't either," Richard said, grimacing. "But in my case I've only got myself to blame." He met her gaze for a moment, and then once more had to look away. Now came the truly painful part. "For a time, I actually believed that I could go on like that, and no one would ever have to know. But then, something changed. Suddenly, the Dark Lord was after the Potters. Because of some kind of prophesy, we were told, although they didn't tell us what it was about. James and Lily knew, and Dumbledore knew, but that was it. Probably because they knew there was a spy among them." He smiled bleakly. "But we all knew that the Dark Lord had heard about it. And so, through me, the Dark Lord found out that there was a spy in _his_ ranks, although, as time proved, he never found out who. Most of us guessed what Snape was doing, but the Dark Lord… he couldn't understand love, and so…" For a moment, the memory of long since dead sorrow passed over Richard's face, but he quickly drove it away.

"And so he couldn't know why Severus would betray him? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes. In a manner of speaking. See, the Dark Lord was always a _stronger _Legilimens than Snape, but Snape was cleverer. All his motives were based on love, and since the Lord couldn't understand it, he couldn't see it, and Severus somehow made it look like there in fact were no motives at all. And then he just had to pretend to have different motives for every memory that looked like a betrayal. Don't ask me how it's done, I was never good at that kind of stuff. _My_ mind was always an open book to my Lord, even if it is true that he often couldn't make sense of what he saw. After all, every single thing I did was motivated by my love for him."

For a while, Richard was silent, trying to think of a good way of explaining what came next. But there was none. That is, there were ways, but none of them felt like a good one. Which was only natural, since there was no good explanation to begin with.

"You know what comes next. They wanted to protect the Potters, and so… the Fidelius charm. Dumbledore offered to do it, but so did Sirius, and James always listened far too much to him for his own good. When I heard they'd chosen Sirius I remember thinking that they were insane. It was too obvious. And once they caught Sirius, which they would, he would go through everything they'd put me through, and worse, and eventually he would crack. And then…" He closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over them. "But of course that wasn't the plan at all. Almost directly thereafter, Sirius came to me and explained what they were _really_ planning to do…" His voice faltered, and when he spoke next it was in a hoarse croak, not even a whisper. "I couldn't refuse. Partly because if I did, they'd start to wonder why, and the paranoid logic of my mind dictated that suspicion was the same thing as discovery. But mostly because if I did, the Dark Lord would see it the next time I met him, and he'd be _very_ disappointed with me. I knew what he did to traitors. That is, what he did to people why betrayed _him_. And so I agreed, and…" More tears, but this time he wiped them away, angry with himself. "I told him. I knew he'd find out that I was the Secret Keeper anyway, and then he'd torture me until I told him where they were. And…" But there was no way of wiping the tears away now, so he turned his face away instead, covering as much as he could of it with his hand. "…and I _knew…_ I knew that if he did torture me… I'd enjoy it… and I didn't want to enjoy… telling him…"

Dora scooted over to hold him. She wrapped her arms around his chubby frame and rocked him like she did when Teddy was afraid of thunderstorms and came into her and Remus' bedroom at night wanting comfort. She wanted to whisper 'There, there, it'll be alright,' just like she did to her son, but she couldn't because it would never be alright, so she settled for the truth. "I… I don't know what to say."

Richard said nothing for a while, but then gently pushed her away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be…" He drew a shuddering breath and pulled out a lacy handkerchief from some hidden pocket and dabbed his eyes with it.

"Shouldn't be what? Sad because you were tortured and used with the added bonus of being a spineless traitor? Well, what do _you_ think you should be? Performing a bloody tap-dance?" So maybe it sounded a little harsh, but Dora figured that's what Richard needed.

He flinched a bit, fumbling nervously with the handkerchief and looking ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I just feel like… it was my fault that… I don't really have the right to… have I?"

"Damn it, Richard! That was exactly the kind of thinking that _made_ you the despicable person you were! 'No, I don't deserve it. I don't have the right.'" Dora found herself suddenly fuming. "I bet you didn't refuse to sign up for the Order because you felt like you didn't have the right to, or something along those lines. You fell in love with bloody _Voldemort_ because probably you didn't think you'd ever deserve better than him and then you just spun down into that vile mudhole of moral corrosion that enabled you to fucking _betray your best friends! _Now don't you _dare_ come and tell me you don't have the _right_ to feel like shit about that because you have a bloody _obligation_ to feel absolutely crappy about it so that you'll never _ever_ even come _close _to becoming that kind of person again!"

Richard was about to apologise again, but then said: "If I say, 'I'm sorry' one more time, you'll chew my head off, right?"

"Damn right."

"Then I won't. Except… well, I _am_ really sorry about how that came out. I didn't mean it like that." The scolding had proven to be just what he needed, and he sat a little straighter now. "It's just that… I suppose that really _trying_ to remember this for the first time in a really long time makes it easy to… remember it a little too well, I suppose. Shall I continue?"

"Please do."

"Very well." After only a short interruption which included some more wine and tucking the handkerchief away, Richard continued, now in a much steadier voice. "After I told him and he went away to… to kill them, I was… well, as you can surely imagine, I hated myself more than I ever had before. And right then and there, I think, I lost what little sanity I had left. All that anger, all that loathing… it was all directed at _me_ and I couldn't take it. I knew I was breaking and I was desperate to save myself, and it was really so simple, because all I had to do was find someone else to blame. And in my madness, it was suddenly so obvious whose fault it _really _was. It was Sirius' fault. _He_ was the one who had suggested making me the Secret Keeper, he was the one who had given me no choice. If he hadn't – or better yet, if he hadn't suggested himself in the first place and had let Dumbledore do the job – I wouldn't have had to do that." Richard shuddered, feeling ill. "And it was all so simple," he repeated in a distant voice. "All I had to do was to punish him, to make him suffer, and then, surely, my pain must go away. If only I… It's strange, the way things became so very clear when I finally lost my mind. During my life I had always, when all else failed, faked illnesses and injuries to gain… well… attention, sympathy… just to get people to notice me for a while… and now I just had to do it again and then… direct the attention towards him instead. The plan worked itself out in my mind in a matter of minutes, and there was no one to stop me as I went. I remember…" Now there was an almost dead expression in his eyes, as they gazed into the world of memories. "I remember seeing Snape on my way out of there, looking just as bad as I felt, and for a moment he looked at me with pure loathing in his eyes… and then I remember Sirius' face… he was so stunned with grief and anger that he just let me shout my accusations without even trying to defend himself… as if he didn't even hear me. I remember his face just before I blew up the street as well… I remember the fear. And I heard him laughing as I slunk away, and I wondered why the pain wasn't gone yet." He blinked, shaking his head as if he was trying to wake himself up.

_What he hell do I say to this?_ Dora thought, sitting with a stunned expression on her face. "Well… I feel like someone just put my head in a food-processor…"

"And _I _feel a spectacular headache coming on. Trying to think like… well, like me… like _him_… Well, you know what I mean… It requires trying to think like someone whose mind has been broken into a million itty bitty pieces and then put back together again by a less than skilled craftsman. And that is not very pleasant."

"I can imagine," Dora said, rubbing her temples.

"All in all, I think we could both need- Oh, bother!" He glared at the door. Whoever was on the other side of it apparently had no respect for this, and knocked again. He stood up, blinking and hoping that it wasn't too apparent that he'd been crying, and then hurried over to the door. He opened it, and then stumbled backwards as if he'd just received a forceful shove. It rather surprised him that he hadn't, considering that the person on the other side of that door was Remus.

* * *

It felt so strange to see him, this man who's features invoked nothing, who's _being_ invoked nothing, and still feel this seething rage and hatred. In some convoluted and altogether confusing manner it almost felt unfair to resent this stranger so much. But it wasn't a stranger, was it? It was Peter Pettigrew, the bane of his existence. The mind boggled and tied itself into knots trying to wrap itself around the concept. Peter was alive, and standing before… no, stumbling away from him.

A short, very awkward pause ensued, and then the man's eyes flickered toward the room. "Well, either you're here to kill me, or you're here for Dora. For my peace of mind, I will assume the latter. Come in. I'll… I'll just be in the kitchen for a while." He backed away, as if first unsure if he dared turn his back on Remus, and then shook his head in what seemed to be exasperation and disappeared through a door. Remus hesitantly entered the room, and there was Dora, sitting on a sofa with so much baroquesque decoration on the frame that it looked like it was going to come alive at any moment. She looked about as lost as he felt, and for a while he had no idea what to do. However, sitting down next to her seemed like a good idea, so he did. Pulling her close and never, ever letting her go also seemed like a good idea, but he didn't know if he should do that just yet, and so he settled for: "I'm… terribly sorry about all this. I've been… vile."

Now, what do you do when your husband comes to apologise after a huge fight? Why, you kiss him of course. Passionately. And then you swat him over the head. "You don't have to be _sorry, _of course you were angry. You had every right to be!"

The kiss had left him somewhat disoriented. "Well, yes, but… but I almost… and then I… I don't understand how you could ever forgive me for…"

Dora stroked his face with her fingertips, rediscovering him. They hadn't been apart for long, really, but it felt like an eternity. "Well, you obviously… okay, you _seem_ to be willing to forgive _me_ for wanting to continue being best friends with a man who once was the person who wrecked your life. I mean… wow!"

"It was… easier once I realised that forgiving you wasn't the same thing as forgiving him. That took a while."

Dora looked shocked. "You thought I wanted you to _forgive him?_"

"Not as such. I just got it into my head that to forgive you for wanting to be friends with him, I was required to first forgive him, and… well, I couldn't."

"You idiot! I don't want you to forgive him! _He _doesn't want you to forgive him! Hell, I'm his best friend and _I_ sure as hell haven't forgiven him! There is no forgiveness for what he did. Ever. However, I can still love who he is now. And you see… if it hadn't been for me he'd never have thought he could ever have friends, or any kind of close relationship. But then I sort of… barged into his life without asking for permission and just decided that we'd be buddies, and I gave him hope. When I found out about… well… everything I still felt kind of responsible. I mean, what was the likelihood of someone barging in again? And I'd shown him what life can be like when you share it with people who love you. That's a terrible thing to deprive someone of. I just… couldn't handle that. And then I went all melodrama on your hot tight little ass and threw hints around about our marriage failing if I couldn't have my way. Not precisely diplomatic, but on the other hand that's kind of what I felt like."

It did _not_ feel like the appropriate thing to do, but Remus really couldn't help himself. He laughed, pulling his wife closer in an almost brutal embrace as he shook with helpless mirth. "What am I supposed to _do_ with you?" he demanded once he was capable of speech again. "And whatever did I do to deserve this?"

"Well… I have a few suggestions to answer both your questions, but they'd just make you blush and think me horribly rude and insensitive," Dora answered, and felt she could afford a wicked grin since Remus couldn't see it anyway, squashed as she was against his chest.

He didn't see it, but he sure as hell knew it was there anyway. "You are right in your assumptions. The one about thinking you horribly rude and insensitive, at any rate. I am not blushing," he said, knowing he was. "And I do understand, now, what you were trying to say. I just needed P- Richard and Sirius to shout some sense into me first."

Dora felt her throat tighten and her eyes misting over somewhat. She knew what it had taken for Remus to not only mention Richard, but actually giving the man credit for him being there with her. "Well… good," was all she managed to croak out.

Leaning back a bit so that he could kiss his wife gently on the forehead, he then looked down at her face and thought, _How insane was I, to even suggest that this woman should consider leaving me?_

Then looked to the left of him and thought, _What the hell is that tea pot doing here?_

Because a tea pot in bone china with chrysanthemums painted on it, along with two cups, was indeed hovering next to them, and then gently settled on the table. Dora seemed to have noticed them too, and was smiling.

"The Queen Mother has spoken. We shall have tea," she proclaimed. Noticing the sceptical look on her husband's face she said, "Oh, don't look like that, he's not going to poison us," whilst pouring herself a cup. Then she took a sip and pulled a face. "I spoke too soon. Raspberry, vanilla and cream. He clearly wants us dead," she stated and decisively put the cup back on the table. "And he thinks _I _like weird flavours…"

"Well, you do," Remus said, sipping the tea to show goodwill. It didn't taste that vile, really. Just… flowery. "Those cupcakes are repulsive, and quite possibly a crime against humanity, I hope you do know that." And now they were talking about cupcakes, as if nothing had happened? The day just seemed to be getting odder.

"I will admit to no such thing. And why the hell are we even talking about it? I mean… Did Richard spike the tea or something? We've just…. I don't know, made up or whatever. We should be… something!" Dora waved her hands in frustration. She had no idea what she was trying to get at.

"Something like this?" Remus said, (knowing it was a terribly cheesy – and very Sirius-like, come to think of it – thing to say, and that she'd probably make fun of it… _if_ she had the air to say anything at all, that was) before he leant forward and kissed her.

* * *

After a while, Richard – looking slightly amused and quite alarmed where he stood – heard Remus mumble something, and Dora's voice answering, "No, no, he won't mind!"

"Perhaps not, but I do," Remus answered, and some shuffling noises in the other room seemed to indicate that he was disentangling himself from her.

"Oh, fine then, be a prude," Dora could be heard saying evenly before hollering, "Richard, we're leaving!" Then she showed up in the kitchen door with a big smile on her glowing face. "But I'll see you tomorrow." She threw a look back towards where Richard supposed Remus was standing. "Late tomorrow."

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that, yes. And tell him I do appreciate it. It's velvet, you know. Very hard to get stains out." He smirked kindly, waving his wand to collect the tea pot and cups.

"I forgot. Fags and furniture… Anyway, see ya!" And she was off.

* * *

**A/N: **Had fun? We sure as hell did.

Oh, fun facts about waps: The Ronettes actually called themselves The Darling Sisters the first time they performed. And before you judge me, I didn't know that. I just noticed it when I was looking through their article on Wiki. So there. Why I was looking through the article? Ach, you never see the bigger picture, do you?

No, enough of this rubbish! Bed!


	11. In love and war

**A/N (a big one): **Okay, so there are some things we wanted to bring up before moving on.

Firstly: No, there will be no puppy love. Remus and Sirius will not, in fact, get each other. We feel that, in the context, this is a good thing. We apologize if you have found our summary/labels to be misleading, but to our defence we shall say that _what we said_ was that Sirius and Remus would be two of the main characters, that it was a romance story, and that there would be slash. This is not, in fact, equivalent with promising that they will become a couple.

And yes, we could've simply said that in the very first author's note, but that would somewhat have spoiled the point of the story, don't you think? We were aiming for some suspense.

True, we could have tagged Peter and Nymphadora as the main characters, as someone suggested, because they are as much protagonists as Remus and Sirius, but be honest, people, how many would read a story like that? Also, we wanted to keep Richard's identity secret until it was revealed. Again, we were protecting the suspense.

And lastly, we sort of _wanted_ Remus/Sirius-shippers to read this story, because if we had labelled it as Remus/Nymphadora, we feel we would have been preaching to the choir. (And here is the point we were trying to make, as a bonus: If you have a lovely wife and a family, it is not OBVIOUS that you let all that go just because your old lover returns from the grave. It might happen, yes, but it doesn't have to, as some of the more zealous shippers seem to think. And please to notice that one of us IS a Remus/Sirius-shipper, so we are NOT bashing the pairing and we would appreciate if you do not flame us.)

Secondly, is the randomized hatred towards Nymphadora based on anything else than that she stands in the way of the puppies? Because we really tried to make her a nice, sympathetic person, and now a lot of people are telling us that she's a whiny bitch. Where did we go wrong?! /_wail_

And thirdly, we appreciate that everyone has their own opinion on the matter, but _we_ happen to rather firmly believe that even convicted criminals can return to society and live productive lives (see examples such as self-castrating paedophiles, murderers who have served their time and deeply regretful Nazis that reformed during or after the Holocaust). We do not say that the victims of such criminals should ever have to forgive what they did, because they damn well _shouldn't_, but that doesn't mean that _anyone_ can ever be said to deserve eternal condemnation, eagles pecking out their livers, etc, because eternity is a very long and probably very lonely time, friends. So _you_ might not ever forgive Peter for what he did, but repeatedly telling us so will not change the fact that we think Dora has every right to care for him, and that he, as he is truly regretful in our fic, has every right to a happy, peaceful life. We're not trying to change anyone's opinion here.

So, to all the jilted people out there, we are first and foremost writing this for our own sake. It was, if you need to know, meant to be a simple story about Remus, Sirius and Dora, but now we're having so much fun with it that you can expect to see rather a lot of both theirs and their children's further adventures. Krauss out.

Oh, and we're really sorry if we're being whiny bitches here, we just wanted to settle these points once and for all, and since a lot of our reviewers (especially the nasty ones) are anonymous, this is the only way for us. We DO love our readers, we adore you for saying nice things about us, and we really have no problem with concrit. But the thing about concrit, see, is that it has to be constructive. Just saying.

* * *

**Chapter ten**

**In love and war**

* * *

_This was right at the end of the War, as Remus and Dora finally returned home after all the confusion following the last battle. There would be celebrating, later, but right now what everyone wanted to do was to spend time with their families and forget that there ever had been a war._

_Dora's mother had been there to greet them, pale still with the grief at the loss of her husband, but nonetheless smiling when they told her that yes, it was finally over. And for a while, mother and daughter stood in silence and held each other, before Andromeda looked up and gestured imperiously at Remus, indicating that he'd damn well join the hug or face the consequences. From a woman who'd earlier had flinched away if he as much as tried to shake her hand, it was a grand gesture of goodwill, and Remus, still numb from the night's emotional strain, nonetheless had it in him to feel very grateful._

_Then they'd gone to say hello to Teddy, who was sleeping soundly and didn't stir even with two parents hugging his small frame and crying against his tuft of purple hair._

_Finally, they'd retreated to the guest bedroom, to kiss and hold each other, and thus tell each other that they were both alive and planning to stay that way. Perhaps it wasn't a very suitable way of celebrating their victory, but in any case it was their way and they were rather happy with it._

_It was during the act of lovemaking that Remus suddenly noticed that Nymphadora's face had changed slightly, and for a moment he couldn't quite figure out why, seeing as his mind was quite busy with other stuff. But then he recognised her, _her, _the actual face of his wife, the face she only seemed to revert to when she was completely at peace with herself, when she was completely and utterly happy…_

_This was a rather nice thought. A bit too nice, as a matter of fact._

_There was a short silence following his sudden, ragged intake of breath, and Remus looked rather embarrassed. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, Dora…" he mumbled._

"_Hey, is this the face of a woman who minds?" Dora said pointing at her flushed features. "However… would you mind terribly getting a little creative with the rest of your body? Because…um…I want you."_

_Chuckling quietly and bending close so that he could kiss her jawline, her neck, and further down still, Remus replied that yes, this could probably be arranged._

* * *

And this was now, and Remus was currently very glad that Grace was a very heavy sleeper, because as he pinned Dora against the wall and managed to charm the door shut at the fourth attempt, interruptions was not something he felt he could really handle with the appropriate amount of fatherly love and patience.

Dora was well aware that there was a bed in the room, and that it'd probably be more comfortable being on it. However, she was also acutely aware of the fact that Remus' hands were tearing at her clothes with almost frantic urgency, and that they probably wouldn't get that far.

She tried to return the favour, but he pushed her hands away and placed them against the wall with a firmness that clearly stated that she'd keep them there if she knew what was good for her. A part of her wanted to disobey, hoping that she'd be punished, but Remus was worshipping her with his hands and his lips. In between kisses he whispered her name like a prayer, and the power of that, his need for her, made her relent to his wishes and stand still, shuddering under his touch.

All that was in Remus' mind – all that could possibly fit there, because the thought was so huge – was that Dora was back with him, back where she belonged. And he knew that he couldn't handle it if she ever disappeared again, that if his life was ever to become that empty again something would break and he would go mad.

His body was just as full of her presence as his mind; he could feel her every movement, hear her every moan, and as her clothes fell away and she stood there, as beautiful as the day he had married her, he couldn't for the life of him remember what kind of madness it was that had compelled him to do anything to drive her away. She was perfect; she was his, and no matter what she did… as long as she stayed with him, he wouldn't mind. He wanted to speak, to tell her, but found that he couldn't, and so he simply grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to their bed, heaving her onto the sheets with a silent determination that made her laugh. The laughter lingered on her face when he reached down and touched her, caressed her, just for the pleasure of seeing her throw her head back and gasp. But just touching wasn't enough now; this night, this one night, he simply _needed_ to feel her, all of her, as close to him as was possible. Every last inch of her that he could touch, could cling to, was important; every inch of her that he could make sure was real, and not some shadow of his imagination to make up for what he almost had lost.

She gasped a bit in surprise as he got on top of her, and then she chuckled quietly, her eyes shining at him in fierce joy. "Eager aren't w- _oh!_" She closed her eyes, grimacing slightly, and for a moment he was scared that he might've hurt her, but the way she then moved against him definitely took away that fear. He whispered her name once again as an answer, falling into rhythm with her, matching her breaths and her movements with his own. With the ease of years of practice he read her, and as he felt himself approach climax with every movement, he could also feel her following him.

And the very moment she didn't quite manage to stifle her ecstatic cry and he felt her contract around him, he saw her face change, he saw her letting go, and when he released the hold of himself and threw his mouth open in a silent cry he was finally home again.

* * *

Sirius drank the last of his tea and put the cup back on the table, leaning back. As he had explained the whole scenario between him and Remus he had been belatedly amazed by the fact that he'd managed to actually say the right thing. Probably because talking about himself trying to convince Remus to stay with Dora felt like making up a story rather than recounting what had actually happened.

He could read nothing in Severus' face to indicate that the other man disbelieved him, but that was on the other hand because he could read absolutely nothing at all there. The other man was carefully hiding his opinion of the whole matter by a studied blank expression.

"The thing is," Sirius said slowly, "that… well, I really wanted to… to break them up. I knew I couldn't, because it'd be wrong, but somehow I still wanted to. Not much, but still." He shrugged, turning his gaze away, because something about Severus' gaze right now made it impossible to meet. Or maybe he was just feeling guilty, he didn't know.

"But now?" he continued after an awkward pause, shaking his head. "Now I don't want to. It's just… I don't think that _that_ is what I really want anymore. Even if I'm still in love with him – and I'm not sure I am – it is still not something I want. I've always known that it would make Dora and the children unhappy if we got back together, and whenever I was really honest with myself I knew that it would make Remus unhappy as well. But it is as if I just realised that _because_ of this, I would be unhappy too." He smiled a bit wryly, pulling a hand through his hair. "You must think I'm an idiot to have figured that out just now. Oh, and please don't answer that, I _know_ that you've always thought I was an idiot and that it comes as no surprise, thank you." He still couldn't meet Severus' gaze, and he was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the other man's silence, yet there was one more thing he felt he ought to say. "I just… think that... that maybe I want something else, now." He fell silent, wondering if he'd said too much.

Severus pursed his lips, his blank expression changing into one of thoughtful consideration. "To my great surprise I find that the only thing I can say is that you most likely did the right thing."

Sirius grinned, relieved that the situation hadn't turned into something awkward. "Yes, I actually did. It really sucked while I was doing it, but it feels better now. If I knew it was that easy to just let go, I think I would've done it a long time ago, as strange as that sounds."

Severus snorted with that almost-but-not-quite smile that Sirius thought must be unique to Severus. "Oh, I don't think it sounds all that strange at all."

It took some time for Sirius to absorb the meaning of what Severus had just said, because even though it wasn't very complicated, having Severus smiling at him inexplicably made it so. He shifted a bit in his seat, embarrassed with himself and hoping that he at least wasn't blushing like a schoolgirl, while he tried to come up with a good answer. "Well, yes, I suppose it doesn't. Well, not to you at any rate. I suppose, if anyone understands, it is you." He quickly shut his mouth once he realised what had come out of it, and cursed silently over the fact that it suddenly was so very hard to remain aloof and not-really-friendly.

Severus regarded Sirius with growing suspicion. He'd thought that something rather odd might have been developing, however reluctant he had been to admit it, between them for quite some time, and it wasn't all buddy-buddy manly friendship. Some of it was... something rather different.

He shifted a little in his seat, uncomfortable in the knowledge that sometimes you can't just sit around and wait for things to happen. Sometimes you have to _make_ them.

"Well... I suppose I'm glad I can be of service." He fixed Sirius with a firm gaze. He wasn't going to blush and look away like some lovesick teenager. "You said you think you want something else now. Do you have any inclination of what that might be?"

Sirius started slightly, caught off guard by the question, so much that he answered without thinking. "Yes," he said, and then could have swallowed his tongue. But there was no going back now. "Yes, I think I have an idea," he repeated, and then, without being able to help it, he lingered with his eyes on Severus for half a second before looking away, vowing to kick himself hard later.

Severus swallowed nervously, hoping fervently that Sirius missed that particular detail, and then fired off another almost-smile. "And... and would it be preposterous of me to inquire as to what that idea is?"

Sirius smiled back, and it felt good so he wasn't going to regret that. "Why, of course it is. Why should I... what's the phrasing? Submit my recent discomforts to your perverse attentions?" His smile widened, and he tried to make all the kind and affectionate things he rather wanted to say show in that smile. His mind, meanwhile, was frantically scrambling through their recent conversation, trying to figure out what Severus was after. Could it be that he...? But Sirius had absolutely no evidence that Severus had ever been attracted to or even interested in another man in that way, while he certainly had enough evidence that the other man had been deeply interested in women... or, well, at least one woman. So probably not. But maybe...

And for the very first time during all the years they'd spent having tea and awkward conversations, Severus allowed the corners of his mouth to stretch into a real smile. "Touché, I stand corrected. You are under no obligation to tell me anything of course." He drew a steadying breath. _For Christ's sake, man, you're almost fifty years old! _"I was just... well, I... I must admit that I was hoping to maybe have a part to play in whatever plans you have for the future." There, he'd said it.

Sirius simply gaped. He tried to speak several times, but every time he only managed small spluttering noises before once more falling into stunned silence. He was almost positive that Severus had just confirmed something that he had thought to be almost certainly impossible. _Almost_ positive. After all, it could be a huge misunderstanding and he would look like an absolute idiot and... _and you didn't say that you, inverted comma, wanted to play a part in someone's plans for the future, inverted comma, if you were only referring to continuing to have tea together._ Nonetheless...

"I... really hope that you mean what I think you meant, because otherwise I'll look a right fool for doing this." And on a sudden whim and most definitely fuelled by sheer madness, he leant forward and planted a tentative kiss on Severus' cheek, feeling more like a teenager than a grown man for doing it but not daring to do more.

Severus cleared his throat, more than a little embarrassed by the tingling in his cheek. He had no idea what to do; he'd never been in a situation like this. Maybe just admitting it was the best thing to do. You couldn't very well be in a relationship with someone if you weren't prepared to admit to insecurities. "I have to confess now that I have no idea how to... do this, I suppose. I haven't... fallen in love since I was a child. I am in fact completely at your mercy," he said with another smile.

Sirius had almost bitten through his lip when Severus had said 'love', and it took him some time to find his articulation skills once more. "Well, I'm not exactly an expert, considering the cock-up I made of my last relationship, although that wasn't entirely my fault," he smiled self-consciously. "But then again, a lot of it was my fault. But I suppose we'll have to improvise a bit. Because... you know, even though I haven't really got the faintest idea how to do this either, at least not like a grown-up, sensible person... well, I still want to do this. And I'm sorry for not getting it earlier." As it occurred to him just how dim he'd been, he cleared his throat in embarrassment and lifted his cup to drink some more of the tea that he knew he'd finished already. Almost as if by accident – well, not really – his hand closed on Severus'.

With a content sigh Severus sat back and closed his eyes, perfectly happy, for now, with just sitting like that for a while.

* * *

**A/N:** See, slash! We told you! And we're certainly not writing these two darlings out of the story. Really.

Also, yes, it was a short-ass chapter compared to what we usually write, but we really didn't want to add anything to this.


	12. No way!

**A/N: **And lo, we bring you a new part! Hey, is it too late to be this soppy? Hey, too late! XD

Er, we also wanted to add to the... uhm... readers that aren't here anymore (just nod and smile, please) that we are really sorry there were so many misunderstandings; we simply asumed that people would get what we were about pretty soon and leave if they didn't like it, but apparently we weren't quite as obvious about things as we thought. Sorry about that.

Also, to clarify the descriptions at the beginning of the fic; it is quite obvious by now that we haven't saved all of the people that died in the seventh book, it just wasn't possible. But we did manage to get all the suckers that died on-screen, at least. So yes, if anyone was wondering, at least Fred is alive. Unfortunately we realised that we had no idea to save Dora's dad XP Curse Rowling! Oh, well, not that it matters much to our story, we just felt we wanted to make things a bit more clear.

**

* * *

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Chapter eleven

**No **_**way**_**!**

* * *

When Remus opened the door, smiling the cautious little smile that he had adopted in Sirius' presence, Sirius was able to smile back more genuinely than he had managed in a long time. And it felt better to see Remus too. Mostly, he realised, because he wasn't feeling guilty about wanting to make the other man's life a mess anymore; well, there wasn't anything to feel guilty about now.

"You're right on time," Remus said, looking slightly bemused, "dinner is just ready."

"Excellent, I'm starving." Sirius removed his gloves and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it on a coat hanger in the shape of a gnome with a very long nose. Dora still reigned in the hallway. "But I'd like to speak to your wife first, if that's okay."

Remus started slightly and looked at him in puzzlement. "Well, yes. But what...?"

"I'll tell you later," Sirius said hurriedly, and when a slight hint of suspicion snuck itself into Remus eyes he laughed. "It's nothing terrible, I promise you. Rather the opposite, as a matter of fact. Where is she?"

Remus pursed his lips thoughtfully, but then shrugged. "Upstairs. In our room. She's on the phone." A small twitch in his eyebrows, like an almost-frown, told Sirius exactly who she was on the phone with, and he made a small grimace.

"Very well. I'll go and drag her away. I'll be with you in a minute."

He bounded up the stairs, knocking on the slightly open door before pushing it open. Dora was sitting cross-legged on the bed, doodling on a piece of paper and prattling happily.

"...no way! What a crazy random happenstance!... Oh, hush, _I_ use that expression... no I imagine he wasn't... Oh, come on, that's... What? Get right out of town! Really?..."

Sirius cleared his throat a bit, and she looked up, giving him a huge grin. "Oh dear, your nemesis is in the doorway, I'd better get off the phone... Sirius. Shut it, he is _too _your nemesis, and with good reason. Talk to you later, bye." She hung up and turned her attention back to Sirius. "Hello, you! And what gives me the honour of having the infamous heartbreaker Sirius Black in my budoir?"

Sirius snorted. "Infamous heartbreaker indeed. And there was something I wanted to tell you." He closed the door behind him.

"Exciting! I love a bit of gossip, do tell."

Sirius smiled at her, sinking down onto a chair. "Not exactly gossip, no. Sorry to make you disappointed. But..." He took a deep breath, fidgeting nervously with a thread that had come loose at his sleeve. "I wanted to tell you that I'm really, really sorry. For my behaviour, I mean. Even when I stopped acting like a whiny teenager, which took some time, I still... Well, it must've been maddening to have me in your house so very often when I couldn't stop looking at your husband like a starving man who just found a huge hunk of meat and isn't allowed to eat it." He paused somewhat and frowned. "That euphemism definitely needs some work. But you know what I mean. I'm sorry."

Dora grimaced a bit. "Yeah, you should work a bit on that one," she said whilst getting off the bed, and then she walked up to Sirius and gave him a big hug. "Don't worry about it, okay? It hasn't been easy for you either."

Sirius returned the hug, relieved beyond words. "Well, that's true, but it's not enough of an excuse for the mess I would've made of your life if I'd had half a chance. I almost did. You see..." He braced himself somewhat and then looked into her eyes. "...a week ago, when... when you two had all that trouble, I... When I found Remus after you had gone to see Pe- your friend, he was really, _really_ upset with you, as you know. And I was so tempted to... to just make him hate you, in the hope that he would leave you. I might actually have managed. And now I'm really glad I didn't and I hope you can forgive me for... for wanting to."

Dora sighed and let go of Sirius, only to take his hand and lead him to the bed. She sat down on it and patted the mattress beside her to indicate that Sirius should sit to. "You seem determined to get to the bottom of this so I guess we'd better sit down," she said with a smile. "_Of course_ you were tempted to break us up. Remus was, in your heart, _your_ lover, and I had gone off to be friends with a man that was nothing but an enemy to you. What you felt was completely normal; you'd have to be a saint not to at least consider it. What matters is that you didn't do it."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, I couldn't. And not just because I'm such a nice person; I had some selfish reasons as well. But what I wanted to say is... I do love him. I might always love him. But now, I have no idea how. All I know for sure is that I do not want him as anything more than a friend, and that I'm finally glad that he has found love in you. So I hope things will get better now. But I still wanted to apologize. I will apologize to Teddy too, of course, and I would to Gracie as well if I thought she'd understand what I was on about, or even stay still long enough to hear what I wanted to say." He grinned fondly, a grin that turned into a just as fond smile as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "And I promise you this, cousin: I won't ever consider taking him from you again. You deserve him, and he deserves you. And I don't need him anymore."

Dora tilted her head and scrutinized him with her knowing eyes, that became round in amazement within a couple of seconds. "Who is he?"

Sirius' smile faltered somewhat, and then his cheeks coloured slightly as he looked away. "Damn your powers of perception, woman. What gave me away?"

"Mostly the fact that when you said you didn't need Remus anymore you started glowing."

Sirius cleared his throat a bit, embarrassed. "I did no such thing. But... well, I was going to tell you anyway, so I suppose... Yes, there is someone. And... and I never fully realised how much I needed him until I realised that the moment I broke you and Remus up, I would've lost him forever, because he could never be friends with someone he didn't respect..." His voice became distant as he almost forgot that he was speaking out loud while he mused.

Dora bounced up and down on the bed with delight. "Oh, you are _so_ glowing! Like a teenage girl having her first crush! But you didn't answer my question. Who is he?"

Sirius swatted half-heartedly at her and missed by a foot. He was having great trouble in his attempts not to smile. "I should leave you wondering, I should," he grumbled. "But you'll know soon enough either way. Actually, you ought to be able to figure it out. I haven't exactly been a sociable creature these years. And if you exclude Harry, something I dearly hope you have already, there is only one man left, isn't there?"

Dora took a moment to consider, and then let out a yell. "No _way_! Is it... I mean... _Severus_?"

Sirius laughed, partly at her reaction and partly because he was so insanely happy. "Yes way. I... He is... We are... Yes. It's him."

"I think that's the most delicious thing I've ever heard!" Dora shouted happily and gave Sirius another hug to congratulate him. "I can't believe it, _Severus. _I'd never have figured him to be into men... or rather into _anyone._"

"Believe me," Sirius said, hugging her back tightly, "I was as surprised as you were. I thought I'd just upgraded from married to straight, and while I appreciated the new scenery, it wasn't going to do me much good. And then he..." He fell silent, blushing at the memory of that awkward but wonderful conversation. "It all just worked out. And... and he loves me," he finished in a hushed voice, as if afraid to say it; as if doing so would break some kind of spell and everything would go back to normal.

"I am so happy for you! For all of us! I don't know about you, but I think things are going to get a lot better from now on."

* * *

When they came down to the kitchen, Sirius smiling happily and Dora giggling giddily, Remus treated them both to a long, mystified look. "You know, if it wasn't you," he gave Sirius a pointed look, "I would be feeling suspicious."

"Oh, shut it, Moony," Sirius said with a grin, sitting down next to Grace. "You'll know soon enough. But I think I just might let him tell you." At that, Dora broke into another fit of giggles, and Remus couldn't get anything out of Sirius beside that.

* * *

Sirius sat down and gratefully reached for the waiting cup of tea. "Dora sends her regards and called you my 'love muffin'. Please don't kill her."

"I will try since you ask it of me," Severus said dryly before taking a sip from his own cup.

"I'm glad. She's the kindest woman I've ever met whose husband I've tried to steal. She forgave me for everything and is apparently deliriously happy for us." He paused, sighing. "I really am the scum of the earth, aren't I?" While he spoke he watched Severus' hands as he put down his cup and folded them in his lap, and then let his gaze stray upwards to meet the older man's gaze as he turned his head to look at him. For the first time in a long, long while, he felt a thrill of genuine, breath-catching attraction that was new and untarnished, and not riddled with either unease, bitterness or guilt. It was rather nice.

Severus snorted, doing an admirable way of hiding his instant response to his lover's unfeigned desire. "Remember who you're talking to, you have to do a little better to deserve the rank of 'scum of the earth' in my book considering the people I have been around."

Sirius smirked. "I suppose I will just have to try harder, then, won't I?" he said, moving a bit closer.

Severus raised his eyebrows, "Oh yes, I'm definitively feeling a decrease in my fondness for you right now," he said with most of his usual sarcasm but none of the venom.

Sirius laughed, leaning yet a bit closer. "You know, Severus, I wonder what it's like, living with a that stick up your arse for most of your life." He reached out a hand to rest firmly on Severus' thigh, smiling teasingly. "Just to make sure I do not offend your sense of morality, am I allowed to kiss you right about now?"

Severus merely smiled, put his cup down and then proceeded to kiss Sirius with all the ardour in his slightly repressed but very passionate heart.

Sirius eventually came out of the kiss rather breathless but very content. Severus' nimble hands were on his face, where they felt very good, and they had half-heartedly wrestled back and forth until the other man was almost halfway on top of him. And he really didn't want to be asking the question he had on his mind right now, but he knew if he didn't, he'd completely forget about it.

"Uhm, before I completely lose myself here, I would like to ask a favour of you," he mumbled, playing with the hair at the nape of Severus' neck.

"Well," said Severus whilst planting a series of light kisses on Sirius's neck, "it must be terribly important since you see fit to bring it up _now_."

Sirius tried, and failed, to bite back a growl of frustration. "God, you're not making it any easier. Oh, no, don't stop. I just... wanted to ask you if perhaps you could be the one to... to tell Remus about us. I have no idea what to say, and I've been...well..."

Severus _did_ stop at hearing that. "Why? Can't we just let that wife of his handle things? In fact, I expect she told him the second you left their home."

Sirius shook his head, looking somewhat ashamed. "I told her not to. And Dora is... well, Dora. She has this... this codex. So I don't think she did. And at first I thought that I wanted to tell him but in all honesty I think you could do it a lot better and _without _sounding like a total twat, so I thought I'd ask you. I will tell him if you don't want to, of course, but..." He shrugged a little helplessly.

Severus rolled his eyes. "No need, I'll do it."

"Am I being needlessly silly?" Sirius wanted to know, pulling Severus a bit closer until their noses rested against each other.

Severus shook his head slightly and then got back to kissing man he loved.

* * *

Remus had, in his life, learnt to be prepared for a lot of things, but an impromptu appearance of Severus Snape on his doorstep wasn't one of them. Sirius did things like that, and sometimes Harry, but if he had been asked to pinpoint the one person who was most unlikely to do such a thing, it would have been Severus Snape.

And judging by the smug expression the man donned when he saw Remus' surprise, he was very well aware of it.

"Oh, uhm, hello. I didn't know you were coming over...?" Remus said, somewhat reproachfully.

"Well, I spoke to your wife; I can only assume she forgot to mention I was coming. A shame since it was actually you I wanted to talk to," Severus answered.

Remus blinked, bewildered, but then his brain kicked into gear again. Forgot? Not very likely. This was _Dora_ after all. Whatever it was that Sirius and Dora had been giggling at, this was probably it. So he nodded in resignation and stepped aside. "Please come in. I can make some tea and then we can sit down. I have this strange premonition that I might need it."

Severus entered the hallway with a smirk and then followed Remus to the kitchen. Remus, wondering what the strange feeling of foreboding at the pit of his stomach was about, prepared tea and then went to sit opposite Severus by the table. The man was still smirking that same infuriating smirk. Remus drew a calming breath. He would hate to think that he still had some kind of issue with this man after all these years; he honestly didn't think that was it. It was just that Severus was very talented at being annoying, and the man obviously enjoyed it.

"Very well. Considering Sirius' abysmal poker face, which against all reason seems to have gotten _worse_ during the years, I am given to understand that there is something of importance that you are going to tell me."

"That, of course, is entirely a matter dependent upon what you consider as being of importance, but I do think you'll think this one is fairly important yes," Severus said, and then delivered his punch line with no small amount of self-satisfaction. "Sirius and I are a couple."

Remus was literally shocked out of words. He leaned back, staring at the infinitely smug man sitting in front of him. His mind went back to the beginning of their conversation, trying to find some point where a misunderstanding might somehow have ensued, or, quite possibly, some point where he had gone clinically insane and started hearing things. He found no such thing. Instead he realised that the small quirk in the other man's smile when he had referred to Sirius' lame poker face actually wasn't condescending, but fond, even tender. And that actually, what Severus was radiating right now wasn't so much smugness as deep, heartfelt joy.

And he remembered Sirius' giddiness during his last visit, and the way he had suddenly been able to look Remus in the eyes without that shifty, guilty expression accompanying it, and the warm, unguarded manner in which Dora had acted towards him...

_Oh god. They are actually in love._

After a couple of minutes of stunned silence, Remus doubled over, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "..._Perfect..._" was the only word he managed to gasp while he clutched at his stomach.

Because it practically went against his very nature, Severus did not join in the laughter, but he did allow his smirk to widen into a real smile. "I'm glad we amuse you."

Remus, exercising some very firm self-control, managed to straighten up and stop laughing, but that didn't stop him from grinning like an idiot. "Merlin, that was the best thing I've heard in ages. It probably gave me back several years of my life lost worrying about that idiot." He shook his head in amazement. "And more the fool of me for not realising what was happening. On the other hand, Sirius does not appear to have been that fast on the uptake either." He chuckled. "Well, I am very happy for you. For both of you," he added, giving Severus a sidelong glance.

"Thank you," Severus said, and then added with the slightest hint of insecurity, "So there will be no... awkwardness then?"

Remus smiled broadly. "I would think there would be less awkwardness than it has been before, don't you?" _Especially now that I know why you were so very frosty towards me the last couple of times you've been over,_ he added in his mind.

"Let's hope so," Severus answered and saluted Remus with his tea, and then steered the conversation off towards less earth-shattering subjects.

* * *

**A/N:** Next we'll do our own version of "Nineteen years later", so hold onto your hats and undergarments and watch us go zoom!


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